Of All Possible Worlds
by Chickahominy Creek
Summary: The well is closed, and Kagome is trapped in her own time. Now a well known author, she completes a book detailing her adventures. It severs her connection to the past, but then two swords are found in a dig near the shrine that change everything...
1. Prologue

Chickahominy Creek

Of All Possible Worlds

Prologue: The End of a Fairytale

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, its characters, or its plot.

The air reeked of blood. It's coppery tang permeated the forest, clogging her senses, filling her head, forcing tears through her eyes. It soaked through the ground, through her shoes; red mud mixed with brown threatened to slow her pace, wishing to ensnare her for the nightmare at her heels. The girl's raven locks, unbound, twisted around her face and caught in low-hanging branches. Wooden claws tore the black strands from her scalp, leaving dark threads to hang in their wake. Inuyasha Forest, usually full of the cacophony of life, was silent except for the sound of her labored breathing and pounding feet. Panic clenched her throat—the forest was closing in around her. Wide eyes flickered over the ground before her. The direction she ran was out of habit. She knew where she had to go, her feet automatically carrying her over one well-traveled path to another.

The girl ran like death itself was flagging her—and it was. She could feel Naraku's presence.

They hadn't been ready for him. Initially, the plan had been to go after the demon. With a complete Shikon Jewel in their possession victory, though not assured, was within their grasp. Naraku must have thought so too. Instead of going after the jewel hunters, he had gone after the villagers. She could still smell it, the mixture of smoke, blood, and death. They tried to drive him back. Turning the village into a battlefield was unthinkable; but they couldn't manage it. There were too many villagers in Naraku's path that could not leave the crumbling shelter of burning homes: the too young, the too old, the injured, and the dying. She could still recall pulling bodies from the rubble. Charred flesh in her hands, blood slick limbs sliding through her fingers. Screaming, too much screaming. Sometime during the struggle, Kaede's voice had risen above the battle and ordered them to flee into the woods in hopes Naraku would pursue them.

She saw the opening in the trees and dove for it, stumbling into the clearing on unsteady feet. An amethyst sky greeted her, the setting sun casting shadows that hid the danger lurking all too near. She unslung the bow on her back, grasping it firmly. The old wood was cool against her palm. Smooth, sleek, and after over a year of practice, lethal. An arrow rested on the string, pulled taunt.

Her lips set in a grim line; she reached for her miko power. She found it, at her core; it was there, in that tiny space at the back of her consciousness. A wellspring of pure energy that responded to her slightest nudge. Strength flowed through weary muscles and lungs. Energy ripped through her veins, carrying it through her body until she could hear every molecule around her hum in anticipation. It poured out of her skin, washing over her and flooding the clearing in purple luminance. Like an electric current, it spread around her, pulling at her skirt and top while lifting her hair off her shoulders. She pulled at the energy the same way a weaver pulled thread from a distaff and wove it around the tip of her arrow, wrapping it securely with her mind and tying it off. She was ready for Naraku—as ready as anyone could be for the attack of a homicidal madman.

A familiar growl resonated over the clearing followed a few seconds later by a large cat-like shadow. Kirara landed softly next to her, pawing the ground with impatience. The cat sniffed the air and barred her teeth, hair standing on end.

Two people jumped off the large cat's back. The woman was a little taller than herself with black hair tied into a long ponytail. She wore a demon hunter's protective armor: tight body suit from the hide of a water demon, wrist guards, and a mask to prevent poison. The clothing alone made Sango look like a threat; the Hiraikotsu in her right hand was the telltale mark of a hunter. Light from the young miko's aura reflected of the large boomerang.

Miroku climbed down behind Sango. Whereas the demon hunter was intimidating, the monk looked like he wouldn't lift a finger to swat a gnat. Billowing blue robes hid whipcord strength and the staff he held was a mere twig in comparison to the Hiraikotsu. Sango's power was obvious, Miroku's was misleading. Countless demons had thought the monk an easy target, but the he was far better with his staff than his form let on, and his true danger was sacred charms and seals—and the medieval version of a black hole in his hand.

Sango drew her giant boomerang into fighting position, easing herself beside the other woman. "Kagome, where is Inuyasha?"

Kagome's eyes flickered over the tree tops, darting from place to place while her hand remained steady on the bow string. There was no sign of the hanyou. "I'm not sure. I thought he was right behind us."

"Could Naraku have gotten to him already?" Miroku asked from behind them.

Kagome shook her head. No, that wasn't possible. Inuyasha would never let himself be caught. Never. He promised they would come out of this alive, he promised that afterward…

"…_we will be together. I want you to be mine forever, Kagome. It doesn't matter what time: now, or the future. When Naraku is gone, we can finally begin to live, I promise."_

"No!" she replied, pushing away all seeds of doubt. "He's coming. I know it."

She could feel Miroku behind her. "Kagome, you must accept that fact that…"

"He's coming." The words came out as a strangled hiss. Kagome ground her teeth together, clenching her jaw tight. Her arms began to quiver, but she held them steady. Tremors were moving through her and she could feel the first onslaught of tears at the corners of her eyes. He would be here at any moment.

A clamor rose from within the forest. Suddenly, hundreds of black forms shot out from the canopy, cawing and screeching. The crows beat furiously at the sky, tearing it in an effort to get away. Behind the sound of rushing wing beats, the trees trembled and began parting.

Kagome tightened her hold on her bow and took aim, pointing her arrow at the form that was about to emerge from hiding. Behind her, Miroku was muttering under his breath, left hand hovering near his lips, index and middle finger up as if he were making an effort to hush the noise over the clearing. Some of his preplaced seals along the trees' edge roared to life, characters etched in blue fire; what would happen in this clearing, would remain within it.

She shuddered as the trees nearest them parted and a near human creature emerged. The creature's face and upper body were still human—black hair and eyes, strong torso—but beneath that made her skin crawl. Naraku's lower body resembled a tarantula. Black, hairy legs sprung out from the sheltered wood, uprooting trees and undergrowth and tossing them aside like toothpicks. Stray pieces of splintered wood brushed Kagome's face, but she kept her eyes open.

She released her first arrow. Pale violet light burst from the projectile like a comet and buried itself deep in the demon's right arm. Kagome shouted in triumph when the arrow hit its intended mark, but it lasted only moments. Naruku ripped the protruding piece of wood out and sent it tumbling to the ground. His eyes rose to Kagome. He rushed her.

The miko didn't have time to scream before a hairy leg sent her scrambling. She could feel a breeze passing over her head—he almost had her. The power that she had gathered earlier crumbled like a fallen wall, leaving her vulnerable. Her panicked mind forced her legs to move. The Shikon Jewel bounced against her heaving chest as she ran; the pink orb attracted Naraku like a magnet.

A cry of "Hiraikotsu!" sounded behind her and Kagome turned in time to see Naraku swat away Sango's giant weapon with one arm. His eyes never left his prey. He was bearing down on her, looming to block out the setting sun on the horizon.

Kagome didn't see the dip in the ground. She only noticed that it came up to meet her. Pain registered. Panic clutched her throat, choked her. She tried to crawl away, backwards on her hands and heels. Rocks skimmed the soft flesh of her palms, grinding into her skin. There was no way out…

Kagome squashed her rebellious nerves. There had to be a way out. A future was waiting for her, the best possible future she could imagine. With him. She could see it. This wasn't the end of the fairytale, it was the prologue…

"…_to the beginning. Just think Kagome! When this is over, we can live here, in this village, visit your family once in a while in the future…"_

"_It sounds wonderful, Inuyasha." She smiled. "I can't wait."_

"_It will be perfect."_

"Finally. Where I want you." Naraku's voice rumbled, sounding low in this throat—amused. "Kikyo's descendant indeed." A leg reached for her, seeking her. "You are nowhere near as powerful. I'm surprised you're still here at all. Goodbye, miko, it's been…a pleasure."

Kagome finally screamed as Naraku sped towards her, arm outstretched, fist covered in dark energy, ready to deliver the blow that would surely kill her. Her eyes widened, and then slammed shut. A deep breath, her last. She held it as time stretched to infinity, holding, waiting for the end.

And then she was flying. The ground dropped out beneath her and it was like she had suddenly spouted wings. Wind rushed past her, carrying her upward into safety. Familiar warm hands were beneath her legs and back. Her cheek rested against a comforting shoulder. She buried her face in a thick red haori, breathed in the scents of oak and pine.

"Inuyasha."

She could feel his heart pounding in a quick staccato against her. He shifted her in his grip. "What are you, an idiot?" he shouted, not caring that his mouth was right in front of her face. "How could you let him get so close to you, Kagome? Why did you release your powers? Answer me!"

"You were worried, weren't you?" Kagome said, lifting her head as Inuyasha set her down next to the well, away from the battle.

"Of course I was worried! Why wouldn't I be worried? I care about…" Kagome cut him off with her lips, pressing her mouth against his desperately. All the fear, adrenaline, and panic she had built since Naruku first appeared in the village was in the kiss. She needed to feel him against her, thigh to thigh, hip to hip, body to body. She needed his embrace to keep all the darker points in her life at bay.

Despite the situation, Inuyasha readily complied. She felt the instant the tension left his body as he molded himself against her in an effort to make two physical beings one. His mouth was between coaxing and demanding as he added his need to hers. Her arms went around his neck, pulling him to her. Hands slid up her back, clawed fingers…

…_twined within her hair, pulling it just short of pain. She could feel every inch of him, was crushed against him, and held up only by a pair of strong arms. The other hand ran over her thighs, tracing their way upwards and igniting small fires in their wake. Her right hand found its way to one of his ears, which she rubbed gently. Inuyasha leaned into the touch, a low growl resonating in his throat. He pulled back slightly and traced her lips with a moist tongue, eliciting a gasp from the girl in his arms. He took it as an invitation and tasted, running his tongue along the roof of her mouth, tracing every crevice as if he were trying to memorize it all by touch. He moaned…_

…and pulled away, eyes filled with regret. "We can't do this now."

Kagome nodded. He was right, of course, but she was still reluctant to pull herself from his embrace. He dropped one final kiss upon her brow. "Later," his whispered.

Inuyasha stepped back, pulling the Tetsusaiga from its sheath. He spared her one last longing glance and with great effort, pulled away, rushing back towards the battle to help the others.

_Later. _The single word rang with hope as Kagome watched the hanyou pull his sword back for the first attack. With renewed determination, she grabbed onto the jewel around her neck and began gathering her power again. She would fight alongside him and together they would defeat Naraku. She couldn't wait.

"It's over."

Kagome jumped at the sudden intrusion, but instantly recognized the voice. Her brown eyes narrowed with caution. She didn't know yet whether the intruder meant her good or ill. The woman had brought both with her equally in the past.

A figure in red priestess robes emerged from the shadows of the woods, a long bow held securely in her hands. Kagome swallowed thickly. The woman wore her face. It was just like looking into a mirror, except this reflection had a mind of her own. It was unsettling to say the least.

Kikyo stopped beside Kagome, her gaze also drifting to the battle at the other side of the clearing. "He will win," she said softly. "He has you, and he will win."

Kagome's eyes widened. "You honestly believe that?"

The priestess nodded. "It is his fate, just as the well is yours." She turned to Kagome and shoved her roughly against the well. She grasped the Jewel of Four Souls. "This is my choice, Kagome. I'm sorry, but this must turn out right."

Kagome struggled in the other woman's grasp, but couldn't get away. "I don't understand."

"You will. Black is white, and white, black. Good is evil, and evil, good. Death and life, life and death. Peace and chaos, harmony and discord. This is my choice."

Kagome felt the shove, felt the jewel being torn from her neck. Her arms flailed, searching for a hold to stop her plummet. She could feel time rushing past her, moving across her face in a gentle wind. She fell—and hit the bottom of the well.

Above her, the sky had disappeared, replaced with the wooden beams of the shrine. Desperately, she turned around, clawing at the dirt ground.

"No, no please! Let me go back. It's not supposed to end like this! Please." No one heard, but she kept pounding on the earth beneath her, as if punishing the ground. She punched the floor until her knuckles were raw and throat sore. When she could no longer find the strength to continue, she collapsed bodily to the floor, tears still streaming down her face—a hollow shell.

Words could no longer escape her mouth, but her lips still muttered over and over again—no.


	2. Chapter 1

Chickahominy Creek

Of All Possible Worlds

Chapter 1: All But The Happily Ever After

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.

_Memories are waking dreams._

_Rivers that run nowhere_

_Broken into bits_

_Shimmering in the past_

_Burning cold like distant stars._

_They are a jigsaw of missing pieces._

_Unfocused pictures. _

_They sound only once._

_A gasp in time_

_Reverberating through passing years_

_Echoing, echoing, fading, drifting_

_But never dead._

Midori Akitaki jammed the rock beneath her with frustration, tearing it aside furiously with her chisel. Dimly, she hoped that her boss wasn't watching; unearthing artifacts should be done with nothing but care and precision. If her older brother saw the way she was treating her little corner of the site, she'd never hear the end of it. But Hojo Akitaki was not foremost in her mind at the moment.

_The idiotic fool!_ She thought with furry, striking the ground again with a strength driven by adrenaline. How could he possibly leave her like that? He was a poor excuse for a boyfriend—to think she was contemplating marrying him yesterday. But now? Oh, no, she wouldn't walk within a one-hundred meter radius of that conceited excuse for a human being. Did he realize that she had waited for him for over an hour? Had sat, in the restaurant, alone, with no date, for sixty-two minutes? Men, what she wouldn't give to wipe every single one off the face of the planet.

Another four quick thrusts broke the dirt and after the last, she stopped to catch her breath. She was breathing hard and her head was pounding. Sweat poured down her face and back. Her dark hair, pulled away from her face with a rubber band, hung limply over her shoulders like a rung out old rag. The shorts and thin t-shirt she had thrown on that morning suddenly seemed too heavy. Even her bra was soaked through.

Midori leaned back on her heals—she felt so much better.

After several seconds of relaxing, she bent down to examine the damage. A glint of blackness beneath the dark brown soil caught her attention and she blinked, rubbing her eyes. It had to be a trick of the sun. She had been digging in the same spot for days with no results. The likelihood of actually finding something worthwhile after all this time…

Carefully this time, Midori began scraping away the dirt, setting her chisel aside for a tiny pick. All thoughts of her boyfriend—what's his name, it didn't seem to matter anymore—were gone. Every part of her being was focused on the task in front of her. She was bodily pressed to the ground, ignoring the smudges of dirt that would probably never come out of her white t-shirt. Stones crushed into her hips and stomach, but the discomfort was outside her consciousness. The pick she wielded with practiced ease, gently unearthing her find grain by grain, careful not to damage anything. Her excitement mounted when the form finally took shape—it looked like a sword.

It took nearly two and a half hours to complete the excavation and much to Midori's delight, there was not one, but two blades hidden beneath her hands. With the soil out of the way, she ran her fingers against the black sheath of the first blade reverently. It was so smooth! Even after hundreds of years buried beneath the eastern end of Tokyo, the sword was in almost perfect condition.

She knew that she should probably get up and notify her brother, but she couldn't seem to pull herself away. The first blade was completely uncovered, but the second was still buried. She took up her pick again; surely Hojo wouldn't mind if she cleared away just a little more. There wasn't that much left, but… she squinted at the brown dust. There was something else beyond the swords, something hard and cold, like marble but rougher. Pick and brush were flying, rapidly trying to reveal whatever was there.

Minutes later, she gave the brush a final flick and gasped, her jaw dropping in shock. There was a face staring up at her from the earth. Midori's heart quickened; for a moment, she had thought the stone face real, so life-like was the portrayal. The woman in the earth had wide eyes that took in everything around her with a kind of primal hunger. Her full lips were parted slightly, as if the woman had been frozen in mid-breath. Sharp cheekbones and chin, high forehead, arched eyebrows—exquisite.

Midori ran to get Hojo.

Kagome Higurashi sat stiffly in her chair, thumbing through the pages of the final draft to her latest book, a large cup of mocha—double shot espresso—within easy reach. Her small fine boned hands, stained dark with ink, flipped through page after page restlessly. She felt heat rising in her body, but she doubted that it had anything to do with late August's hot weather and everything to do with the text between her fingers. It had taken months of writing to complete, whole days spent locked in her apartment at a computer to reach the end. Except that it didn't seem like the end. Her fingers itched to add more, but couldn't.

Because that was the end, and she would know, it was her own story. She sighed, wondering if all writers felt like their own autobiographies were incomplete.

"This is very good Kagome," said the young woman sitting opposite her across the table, manicured nails resting on another copy of the book. "I expected nothing less from you, except…" Her voice trailed off. She removed the reading glasses from her face, carefully folding them and placing them on the table. "It's such a sad ending. I was really expecting a happily ever after."

Kagome stared into her publicist's light brown eyes and smiled sadly. Yuki was one of her best friends, had been since middle school. Despite all the trouble she had put Yuki, Eri, and Ayumi through while she had been in the Feudal Era, the three still stuck by her. She wished she could tell them the truth. Everyday, she wanted to tell them that her book series, "A Feudal Fairytale," was more than just a product of an overactive imagination. It was the tale of her adventures and the reason for her absence back when she was fifteen. Her friends had been the pillar that held her when she returned from her final trip to the past.

After the well closed up permanently, Kagome had been nothing more than a living wraith. She couldn't recall much about that time and when she tried to remember, she only received flashes of images. She knew that she stopped eating at some point and wouldn't leave her room. She cried herself to sleep most nights, with Inuyasha's name on her lips more often than not. Usually, after those nights, her mother would come in, stroke her back, and whisper comforting words, but even she could not get Kagome to leave her self-erected refuge.

That melancholy had lasted almost a year. And then, during one of her worst moments, Yuki, Eri, and Ayumi came storming in, literally taking her locked door off its hinges with a screwdriver. Without any food, Kagome had lost a great deal of weight and it had been very easy for the three of them to haul her up and carry her down stairs to the kitchen, where they proceeded to heap large quantities of junk food onto a plate in front of her.

Then they refused to leave until they had an answer for her poor condition.

Kagome had woken up then. It was like coming out of a coma to realize years had passed in her absence. She had stared at them like they were strangers, looking at each of them as if she had never seen them before. An eternity crept by, and somewhere in between, the past finally caught up with the present. When the two met, Kagome had reached for Yuki and started bawling.

The truth never left her lips, but the feelings finally came out. Kagome didn't know how long she cried, but all three of them held her through the entire fit of tears, rubbing her back, telling her that everything would be okay. That she had friends. Friends who would help her put her life back together.

When she was ready, Kagome went back to school. By the time she returned, she was two grades behind, but despite that, she dug in with vigor. Her friends helped her catch up, and by taking summer courses, she had even managed to graduate from high school with the rest of her class. Now, she was a year and a half out of college with a degree in Japanese literature. With her adventures in the Feudal Era at her back, she had also decided to go for a concentration within her major—fairytales and legends.

She had not originally set out to write a book, much less five, but after trying her hand at several jobs with no satisfaction, she found that she was only happy pouring her heart out to her computer—the only safe place for her story was between the pages of a fairytale. And her fairytale, with Yuki as her publicist, had sold millions of copies.

"Hey, Kagome, you still with me? You're zoning again."

Kagome looked up from the page she had been staring at and gave Yuki a hesitant smile. 'Zoning' was becoming a habit of late. She didn't mean to tune her friend out, but ever since she started on her book series, she'd been getting lost inside her own head. The past just didn't want to let go.

"Sorry, Yuki. You were saying?"

Yuki's soft eyes met hers squarely. "I said: don't forget about the book signing on Wednesday. You're supposed to be at the bookstore by eleven o'clock. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

Kagome took a sip of mocha from her cup, enjoying the slight burning of the hot liquid as it seeped down her throat. Just what she needed. "I'm fine, just a little tired, which is nothing a little caffeine can't fix."

"You're always tired."

"Well, I did manage to turn out five novels in a year and a half. I deserve to be a little daunted."

Yuki nodded in agreement, a slight smirk on her face. She sighed dramatically. "Poor Kagome. All alone in her little apartment, buried in her work with nothing but a cup of coffee for company."

"And I enjoyed every second of it." Kagome leaned back and closed her eyes, relaxing against the chair's back. That wasn't quite true of course. The books brought a lot of pain. Not only had she dredged up the past in full, vivid detail, but there were also the sleepless nights, the writer's block, and the frustration of spending hour upon hour behind a closed door that she couldn't bring herself to step through until everything in her head was either down on paper or in her computer. It had been her restful prison.

"Every second?" Yuki's brow jumped in surprise. "I don't know what's worse. The fact that that doesn't shock me or the fact that I can actually see how you would." She paused for a moment, considering, and Kagome barley managed to suppress a low groan. There was a shift in Yuki's voice, she was moving from publicist mode back to best friend. She knew exactly where this was leading, though she probably should have chalked it up as inevitable; it was a routine topic of conversation.

"You need to get a boyfriend," Yuki said simply. Yes, there it was. Kagome took another swig of caffeine—three long swallows. "Come on Kagome, a boyfriend would be the best distraction for you," her friend continued. "He could help you relax, take some of the daily stress off your shoulders. I bet a tall dark and handsome would do you worlds of good."

"I'm not really the tall dark and handsome type." Another sip.

"Okay, somebody foreign then. There're plenty of them in Tokyo."

"What would I do with a foreign boy?" Kagome asked, only half paying attention to the tirade. It was the same script they always used. "Besides, you know what my relationships have been like in the past. I'm just not good with them and now isn't the time." Too true. Most of her relationships lasted no more than a week and never got beyond the shallow end of the water. One date, maybe two, a single shared kiss, and a goodbye; none of them ever stuck around.

"If nothing else, you could use one as a pet," Yuki said absently.

"I already have a pet thanks. Kiri is more than enough."

Her friend huffed, nailing Kagome with a scathing look. "That stray doesn't count as a pet. All that cat does eat and sleep. He even hunts his own food, so you don't have to take care of him." Yuki cringed at the last comment, no doubt thinking of the 'meal' Kiri had decided he wanted to share with her last time she visited. Birds weren't Yuki's usual fair.

Yuki put a finger to her lips. She was silent for a moment and then, "You could use him for inspiration. Good research material."

The mocha in her mouth nearly came spewing out again. Kagome reached for a napkin and quickly brought to her mouth. She choked down the liquid, gasping once she could get air. "Excuse me," she managed. Kagome could feel her cheeks burning and the eyes of other customers glued to her back in curiosity.

"I was just saying that you could use a boyfriend for inspiration in your books." Yuki smiled wickedly. Kagome's cheeks got redder. "You know, you never really go past kissing in your books. I mean, you're twenty-three years old. Perhaps you should go a little further in the sequels. Spice things up a bit…we are going to see a sequel, aren't we? You honestly can't mean to leave it like this, with the girl sobbing by the well."

Kagome blinked in shock, a little dazed by the sudden change. It was like Yuki had just flipped a switched. One second she's speaking as her friend and then 'click,' back into publicist mode. The startled girl blinked, tracing her way back through the conversations, suddenly registering the word 'sequel.'

"Actually…"

Yuki's eyes widened into saucers and she nearly rose to her feet. "Oh, no, Kagome, no. That is no way to leave that beautiful story. There has to be more!"

_Is this the friend or the publicist?_ "There isn't anymore, that's the end."

"But Kagome! Think what this will do to your fans. You built this story up for such a dramatic ending!"

_The publicist, _Kagome decided. "I thought it was dramatic."

"But a love shouldn't end like that," Yuki continued. "Not love that deep." Yuki stopped to catch her breath and suddenly noticed that most of the café was staring at her. She cleared her throat. "You really need a boyfriend."

_Nope, I was wrong. Friend. _And Yuki was wrong too. Love like that, love like she once had, could end like that: sorry, lonely, and heartbroken.

"Just think about it Kagome. There's something more in there," the publicist said, grabbing her purse from where it rested beneath her chair. She held up the copy of Kagome's last book. "I'm going to run this to the office. You going to be okay getting back to your apartment?"

"Of course." Kagome got up, slinging her own bag over her shoulder. She shook the cup that had held her mocha and frowned—empty. She'd throw it away on her way out.

She followed Yuki out the door and onto the busy streets of Tokyo. Yuki went left giving her a quick wave goodbye, heading towards the subway station. Kagome took off in the opposite direction, allowing the crowd to take her towards her apartment complex. Most of the people around her huddled in groups. The majority of them were students out of class for the day. Although she had graduated already, her apartment was close to campus on the outskirts of the city.

Kagome trudged down the sidewalk, absently wondering whether or not it would be to her advantage to take the bus. As she told Yuki, her apartment wasn't far from the café, but her legs were feeling every step. Her body just felt so tired lately. Not enough sleep; she worked from sun up to sun down. The next book was already underway, though she left her adventures out of this one's plot.

There was a loud rumble a few feet away. It was the turning over of a bus's motor and the last few people in line were just beginning to file in. Kagome walked past the bus stop. The exercise would do her good and the weather outside was perfect for it—sunny, clear, and warm. Sunny and warm…

"_Come on, Inuyasha! It's a gorgeous day." Kagome strode through the tall meadow grasses several paces in front of the hanyou, her light steps fueled by a glittering sun. They had stopped for the night in a nearby village after collecting another jewel shard. Kagome had risen early that morning and upon seeing the fields just beyond the outskirts of the village—it had been too tempting to resist. _

_When Inuyasha huffed irritably, Kagome grinned. Someone had definitely woken up on the wrong side of the tree this morning. "Grouch," she said, chuckling. If he meant to look threatening, he was failing miserably; he looked like a pouting child. His face was scrunched slightly in annoyance, wrinkling his nose and putting creases by his eyes. His ears were twitching and Kagome struggled to keep her hands at her side—she wanted to touch them. _

"_We're supposed to be looking for jewel shards, not dawdling."_

"_Spoil sport. We've been on the road for weeks without a break. Don't you want a rest," Kagome asked._

"_Feh, I don't need to rest. We should go back to the village and tell Sango and Miroku it's time to go. The sooner we gather the shards, the sooner we defeat Naraku." He had an edge in his voice and Kagome didn't have to look to know that his hands were locking into fists. There was a pregnant silence and Kagome could feel the past sinking between them again. She was losing him._

_But she could bring him back._

_Before Inuyasha knew what was happening, Kagome sprang towards him, using her momentum to lock onto his shoulders and push him down between the stalks of grass. Inuyasha stared at her with startled eyes. Her body covered his, fingers bunched in the threads of his kimono. Shielded from prying eyes by the tall grasses, she snaked her hands upward, passing through his silvery hair until she reached his ears, finally giving into the temptation to caress them. Beneath her, Inuyasha stiffened and then relaxed, settling into her ministrations. Arms wrapped around her gently, securing her to a warm chest. Kagome sighed. Just the two of them…_

Kagome let out a startled cry as her bottom connected with the sidewalk. The air in her lungs was forced out and she nearly choked. She would definitely have a bruise tomorrow.

Kagome cursed herself for letting her mind wander, wondering what it was that caused her to trip. Then a shadow fell over her and she found herself staring up into the narrow black eyes of a scruffy-looking boy. "I'm sorry, lady. I didn't mean to knock you over, I was in a hurry. Have to get back home before mom gets cranky about my missing. I didn't mean it. Really." A thin hand was thrust in front of her face and without thinking about it, she allowed the boy to pull her up.

"It's alright; I wasn't really paying attention myself. It's probably my fault actually," Kagome said, rubbing the side of her head above her left eyebrow. A mighty headache was beginning to form; just what she needed.

"You alright lady?" The boy barely came up to her chest and he was staring up at her inquisitively. He looked like he had been in a rush. Black hair stuck up in every direction, giving him the appearance of just having rolled out of bed. Kagome had a brush in her purse—she was itching to use it. The jeans he wore were wrinkled, as was the two sizes too big black t-shirt covering his small frame. She had gotten a good view of his feet from the ground—his socks didn't match. For some reason, the thought made Kagome feel better. He reminded her of her brother Sota on a bad day.

"I'm fine, no harm done," she told him.

"Good. I'll be off then. Sorry again!" The boy blew past her, jostling her as he moved away, speeding down the sidewalk at an astonishing pace despite the crowd.

_Strange kid. Maybe I should take the bus after all. _ Kagome reached for her purse and to her surprise, found that it was open. Her hand shuffled through the contents, searching for her wallet and bus pass, but found nothing.

Her mind began to panic, but she forced herself to trace her steps backwards. She knew she had it back at the café because she had to pay for her mocha and she distinctly recalled putting her wallet back into her purse when she was done. Could it have fallen out? No, she had closed her purse…

The boy.

Kagome spun around and began running in the direction the boy had taken. When she reached the bus station at the corner, she jumped onto one of the benches, getting above the crowd and searching for a familiar black t-shirt. She was getting frustrated when movement across the street caught her eye—there.

"Stop that kid, stop him! He stole my wallet!" People around her stared at her in shock, but didn't make a move to interfere. Frustrated, Kagome pushed them aside, thrusting through the people standing around the bench and into the street. She ignored the oncoming traffic, which was going nowhere fast, and sped as fast as she could to the other side, still screaming for someone to stop the kid. Horns blared as she ran and many people leaned out windows to scream at her, some yelling "stop," in concern for her safety, others shouting obscenities for slowing down a commute already near standstill.

Kagome was across in seconds, quickly making up ground. The boy didn't even notice her until she was on the sidewalk. Once he realized he had been spotted however, he took off at a dead sprint, moving deftly along the densely packed walkway.

The boy was quick, but Kagome's legs were longer and her endurance was high, both from natural ability and the added benefit of boiling rage. She was closing in on him when he suddenly darted down an alleyway, knocking over a trashcan to impede her chase—she vaulted over it.

He was within arm's reach when he yanked open a metal door. Knowing what was about to occur, Kagome dove, thrusting her body into the doorway. The heavy metal crashed into her shoulder but she ignored the pain and reached out blindly for the thief instead. Her fingers caught the hem of his shirt and she quickly pulled him toward her, balling clothing into her fist.

"Let go!" The boy struggled, kicking and swinging his arms wildly. Kagome ducked his swings.

"I'll let you go when you give me my wallet you little brat."

"I didn't take it, I swear! Let go." A flying fist connected with her jaw and she grunted, but still didn't relinquish her hold.

She opened her mouth to demand her wallet again when she suddenly became aware of a new presence in the room beyond the door.

"Kuja! What did you do this time?" The boy stopped struggling and stiffened in Kagome's arms.

"Nothing, Grandmother." Kagome watched as the bent old woman emerged from the hallway. Her gray hair was pulled back into a tight bun in back of her head, adding more wrinkles to the hundreds that naturally creased her face. The folds in the woman's skin gave her a grandmotherly look; her eyes, however, added the kind of wisdom that could only be associated with years of experience. They were black, just like her grandson's, and unclouded. They saw through her as easily as they saw through tissue paper.

"Nothing?" the old woman repeated. A bloodhound sensing a lie.

"He stole my wallet."

The old woman nodded. "I see." She hobbled toward the door, stopping before the entrance. She held out her hand.

With a grunt, Kuja dug into the pocket of his jeans and fished out Kagome's wallet, placing it in the old woman's palm. When her property left his hands, Kagome released him.

After Kuja was out of the hallway, Grandma held out the wallet to Kagome. "I apologize for my grandson's actions young lady. He is an impetuous youth. A handful in my old age."

"I understand," Kagome said calmly. "It isn't a big deal, so long as I got it back." She could definitely understand "impetuous youth." Shippo had been the same way sometime, acting on impulse before thinking something through. Come to think of it, Inuyasha had been that way seventy percent of the time…_Stop that train of thought right there! Haven't you buried yourself in that enough already today?_

Kagome reached to take her wallet when the old woman's hand suddenly snatched her wrist. To Kagome's shock, the grip on her wrist was hard, almost painful enough to make her wince. She was surprised she didn't hear bones cracking. How was it possible for a woman her age to have so much strength? "What?"

"Let me see your hands," the grandmother said, sounding desperate. There was an edge to her voice that hadn't been there before. The hairs on the back of Kagome's neck rose.

"What? My hands…?"

"Yes, girl, your hands! Give them to me now!" Her tone left no room for argument. Kagome briefly wondered if Kuja got away with anything at all. Probably not.

Not knowing what else to do, Kagome did as she was asked and thrust out her hands. The wallet forgotten, the old woman grasped each of Kagome's hands in both of hers, palms up. The grip that was so secure seconds ago quivered now. Withered fingers traced up and down her palms as the woman bent over to get a better look. Kagome shivered with the contact of skin on skin, the crone's fingers traced every line from base to tip. There was a current running up and down her hand; the withered fingers were a low voltage livewire.

The sunken mouth was pressed into a thin light. "You're right hand. A difficult past, painful. There's magic in these hands. Lots of it. You've been hiding it from everyone. You're good at hiding it. Haven't seen this much since…"

She stopped and pulled her attention away from Kagome's hands to stare at the girl before her, eyes narrowed. Whatever she found brought surprise and confusion to her face, her lips parting slightly. "It's you. Could this mean…"

The ancient fingers pulled roughly at Kagome's left hand, bringing it to the woman's face. The electricity was coming in full force, radiating between the young girl and the old woman. She was silent this time, as if she were confirming something she already knew. "It's coming back, and once again, you are in the thick of it." She dropped Kagome's hand abruptly and pointed to the door. "Go home girl, now. And be ready. It has already been released. Word will spread."

With those parting words, the old woman followed her grandson down the hallway. Kagome didn't hesitate in taking the woman's advice. Without pause, she reached down and picked up her wallet from where it had fallen on the floor before retreating through the doorway. She ran out of the alleyway; every fiber of her being was telling her to get as far away from the crone as possible.

She didn't stop running until she was on a bus with the doors closed firmly behind her.

She was a block from home when she realized that something inside her purse was beeping. Grumbling, she undid the zipper and pulled out her cell phone. When she flipped it open, the word 'voice message' flickered across the screen. _Probably Yuki. _She jammed the call button and raised the phone to her ear.

"Message one," said the mechanical voice. But the next voice she heard wasn't Yuki. It was a voice she hadn't heard in a long time.

"Hi, Kagome, this is Hojo Akitaki. It's been awhile. Listen, I don't know if you know this or not, but I've been working with a team of archeologists on the east end of Tokyo, close to our old high school." She knew of the sight. Her mom called once every week or so to complain about the noise. It was very close to the shrine.

Hojo continued. "We've been digging for several months now, but we hadn't come up with anything until two days ago. I know this is going to sound strange, but we found something that might interest you. Swords, Kagome, two of them! Yeah, okay, so maybe that doesn't sound so interesting, but I thought it was kind of neat when I found them, well actually it was Midori who found them, but I was the one who evaluated them, worked with the time tables and such… Anyway, the funny thing is, they're almost exactly like Tetsusaiga and Tenseiga, the swords in your books. I was wondering if you would like to come down and have a look tomorrow morning. Obviously they aren't the real Tetsusaiga and Tenseiga, that would be impossible, but still…"

The message cut off and Kagome heard the mechanical voice cut in again, asking her what she would like to do next. Kagome just cut the phone off, placing it nervelessly back into her purse.

_They're almost exactly like Tetsusaiga and Tenseiga, the swords from your books._

_It's coming back…You are in the thick of it._

…_tomorrow morning._

AN: Wow, long chapter. I'm posting this somewhat early. I've reread it all the way through, but I think it's too early in the morning for that read to have done any good. I hope there aren't too many grammar/spelling errors.

Thank you to all who reviewed. Reviews make me happy!


	3. Chapter 2

Chickahominy Creek

Of All Possible Worlds

Chapter 2: Tetsusaiga and Tenseiga

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.

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Tokyo traffic was terrible. Cars and buses were backed up from the subway station all the way to Odaiba Park. Vehicles of all colors formed a dragon with multi-colored scales that reflected pale sunlight. It breathed fire and created artificial smoke, the prone body winding between buildings and nestled on hills. The heat wave that held Japan in its clutches lulled the dragon to sleep, too hot and heavy to move.

Kagome took a deep breath and fiddled with the radio. The voice over the waves reported the heat wave with no end in sight. Not something she wanted to hear while stuck in traffic in a beat up old box car with no air conditioning. Although she brought water, she had long since finished the final drops. Her mouth was filled with sand that stuck to the roof of her throat. Every grain dug into the sensitive cavity, every swallow caused pain. Her black hair stuck to her neck, pulled back in a low pony-tail. It was so hot that her skin was riddled with cracks. Water seeped up through them. It was quite puzzling, really. How could the city be so dry, yet her skin be oozing water?

The dial slid across the meter and finally reached a clear signal—98.5, KMPA. Kagome leaned back in her seat and allowed her melting skin to mold itself to the upholstery. Dart Yuimota's voice rang through the car. The DJ was on air with a caller, a woman with a nasal voice complaining about her children. KMPA was a station Kagome rarely listened to, though several of her friends virtually lived off of Yuimota's show. However, even Kagome had to admit that the man had a soothing, pleasant voice. It was comforting.

She gently pushed the accelerator down as the dragon inched forward, crawling along the burning black pavement. Her tires were sticking and the car groaned in complaint. It didn't want to exert itself and it was already overheated. Finally, a white sign loomed up against the hazy sky. Black paint, peeled off due to age, ran in dark smears, withered and dead. With relief, Kagome detached herself from the rest of the body and moved toward the area she had called home for most of her life.

The area commonly known as the sunset district was calm. Once off the exit, highway gave way to suburban streets and shops. At eleven o'clock, people were out in full force. Kagome had to stop at every crosswalk to allow pedestrians to pass. With school out for the summer holiday, kids lined the sidewalks in groups, talking and laughing. Mothers with small children carried grocery bags in one hand while steering a stroller with the other. She drove past her old high school, slowing down slightly as she neared the gates. They were closed now, but she could still see the entrance through the cracks and the large clock in the front of the building.

_This place never changes. It's almost exactly as I remember it, down to the last stone. _

Traffic took her past the old high school, winding leisurely through the downtown area and into the residential one. Houses were slowly beginning to replace shops, intermingling at places to make the transition smooth.

On instinct, she began to take the first right at the beginning of the residential area, down the road that led to her family's shrine. She had just barely begun to make the turn before she caught herself and twisted the wheel sharply to her left, forcing the driver behind her to slam on his brakes.

The car behind her laid on his horn and Kagome winced. At least he hadn't rear ended her. She hated to cause problems, but she didn't want to return home yet if it meant she had to revisit some of her past, not when she was doing so well.

Her mother had once told her that the shrine drew the Higurashi family. It pulled them towards it like a fisherman reels in fish. Sometimes, it let its catch pull away for awhile and draw the line outwards, but no matter what, it would always reel it back in. Kagome's mother had been raised there too, and after high school, she too had moved out, trying to get away from the quiet life at the shrine. She went to college, got married, and for one reason or another, gradually found herself returning to the shrine periodically. First, it was only once a month, then once a week, which turned into once every three days. It was always unconscious. Sometimes, she would be out shopping and find herself along the main walkway. After Kagome's grandmother died, Kagome's mother gave up and moved in permanently.

Kagome drove past, willing herself to ignore the urge to visit, just for a little while. She couldn't go home now, but it was hard to ignore the pull.

Three blocks later, she encountered a detour sign directing traffic away from the main road. Beside it was another sign reading "National Embassy Archeological Association: Dig In Progress." A police officer stood erect by a barricade, eyes drooping.

Kagome pulled her car up next to the officer and cranked down her window. As if he were just noticing her presence, the officer looked up, quickly pushing his dazed look aside and shoving his face into her car window. Sweat poured down his face, oozing out of small pours and bubbling to the surface. It looked like his skin was being boiled off his bones. The flesh was melting.

"The detour is that way. You can't get through here." Kagome stopped breathing, refusing to inhale the air he was pushing out of his disgusting lump of a head. The smell of his breath was acrid, a combination of stale milk glazed with mint from the old chewing gum in his mouth.

"Did you hear me? I said you can't come through here."

Realizing that holding her breath for the duration of their conversation would be impossible, Kagome exhaled. "I have permission from Mr. Akitaki. He invited me here today." When the oversized hog still didn't budge, she added, "I'm Kagome Higurashi."

The policeman pulled his head back through the window and began searching through his coat pocket, mumbling to himself in a low, grouchy voice. He produced a steno notepad from his jacket and began to flip through it roughly, jerking the pages backwards until he found what he was looking for; he scowled at the answer. He looked her over again. "Do you have ID?"

Kagome nodded and began rummaging through her purse before producing her driver's license and placing it in his outstretched hand. He inspected the photo carefully, bringing the card up to his face until it was only centimeters from his eyes. "This doesn't look like you," he said at last.

He moved towards the barricades at a reluctant amble, limping slightly as if he had a pebble stuck in his shoe that he couldn't get out. Beefy hands closed around the first wooden block and lifted it up; the man grunted with exertion. When the barrier was moved far enough that a car could pass through, he ambled back to her.

The officer stuck his head through the window. "If you have the boss's permission, I guess it's alright. Don't let me hear of you causing trouble." With that, he placed Kagome's ID back into her hand. The moment his head was clear, she rolled up the window, firmly shutting him out of the pure air in her car. Before placing her driver's license back into her wallet, she wiped it off, still disgusted at the slime that covered the plastic surface.

Once through the blockaded area, Kagome drove between a small grove of aspen trees, their backs arching over the road. Branches formed a tunnel that was as effective at blocking light as a tunnel through a mountain. The world beneath their haven was dark, enough so that Kagome thought about turning on her headlights. They say that the path to the spirit world was something like this, a midnight void into the afterlife. It was the same in almost every country—a dark tunnel with a light at the end connecting the living world with the dead.

Once upon a time, there was a war, a great battle that shook the foundations of the world. A maid lived within this time, the wife of a great lord, a powerful man who had gone off to battle to defend his clan immediately after their marriage. One night, she awoke to a loud wail, a horrible sound that wracked the hills. The maid ran to her window and peered out into the night. There, she saw a pale young woman, running from the gates of the castle. Although the maid had never seen the young woman before, she knew immediately that this must be a banshee, and from her startling cry came the herald of her beloved's death. The young wife was not ready to let go of her new husband yet, so she fled from the castle and followed the shadowy form into the hills. With her feet throbbing and her hair laying in tangles down her back, sweat drenched, she arrived at a pair of standing stones that led into a cave. When she entered, the light was pulled away and she could hear soft voices from within the walls. Many times she stumbled, but she would not relent. Finally, when it seemed the darkness could not become any blacker, a pale light exploded in front of her between two stone columns. The ghostly harbinger stood by the leftmost column. "Why do you come?" asked the banshee. "I come for my husband," answered the maid. "He cannot return," the banshee said. "Then I shall go to him." The maid stared into the mists between the pillars and out of it came a large fist. The palm uncoiled beckoning to her. At first, she was afraid, but then she noticed the ring on its finger, a larger version of the one she wore on her own right hand. The maid placed her hand in her husband's and allowed him to pull her into the light.

Kagome still remembered groves like this, from a long time ago…

_"Inuyasha, are you sure this is safe?" Kagome asked, peering hesitantly through the underbrush. The path they were on was narrow, barely wide enough to allow a single person through. She kept her eyes on Inuyasha's red kimono. If she couldn't see the darkness closing in around her, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad._

_"Of course it's safe! You said you wanted a bath, didn't you? There's a creek right through here." He cut away some undergrowth with his claws, clearing away greenery that had grown onto the path._

_Yes she wanted a bath, but not if it meant getting lost in the forest and possibly eaten alive by whatever was waiting for them around the next corner. She could feel a tickle on her leg as something scraped against her flesh and she unconsciously moved closer to Inuyasha._

_"Inuyasha…" Whatever was on her leg was moving up to her knee. She turned her head to look at the back of her leg. Resting on her knee was a black, hairy beast about the size of her hand. One of its eight spindly legs reached forward toward her thigh, pulling itself higher. _

_"What is it now?" Inuyasha had also stopped. He stood looking inquisitively at the young miko._

_Kagome choked down a scream as the bug made its way higher, beneath her skirt, but let it go when she felt tiny fangs insert themselves into her skin. She tried beating at her leg, but when she couldn't get it off; she shoved past Inuyasha and bolted down the path. She could hear the hanyou's light tread behind her and the familiar swish as Tetsusaiga was removed from its sheath, but her fear made her faster than her protector._

_Finally, the trees broke and revealed a small, pristine creek breaking through the forest. Without bothering to shed her cloths, she dove in head first and began scraping at her legs to dislodge her antagonist. After several minutes of splashing, she relaxed against the bank, heaving. _

_Inuyasha had stopped at the water's edge and stood against a tree, staring at her with wide eyes, one eyebrow arched in question._

_"There was a spider," Kagome said, a sheepish blush spreading across her cheeks._

_The hanyou groaned. "Was that all, a little spider? The way you were screaming, I thought Naraku had come out to get us. Foolish girl."_

_Kagome fumed. How dare he mock her? She had been scared out of her wits! What if that spider had been poisonous or something? "Inuyasha?"_

_Her companion glanced up at her from his place by the tree. One look at her face made his eyes widen and he backed up a pace. "Kagome…"_

_"Sit boy!"_

The trees spat her out, plunging her car into a manmade wasteland. The ruins of an old building lay scattered, huge chunks of iron and steel shoved out to the side like the walls of a crumbled fortress. Mingled with the remains was several canvas tents, flaps open to the late morning breeze. Within the circle, men and women swept in and out of holes, carrying everything from shovels and picks to large hunks of dark earth. It looked like the earth was gobbling them up, the holes serving as the ground's orifices in which an earthen demon took in nourishment. Many of the workers came out with scrapes and abrasions. Watching them, she wondered if it hurt when the ground bit them. They didn't seem to notice.

Kagome shifted the car into park and stepped out, her eyes seeking out someone who could help her find Professor Akitaki. As she crossed the barrier between the grove and the wasteland, she almost ran head-on into a worker coming out of a hole. The boy couldn't have been more than a junior in college, at best. He towered over Kagome, and despite the baggy t-shirt and shorts, she could tell that he had the body of a needle. Dirty blonde hair fell over his ears, hiding the headphones that diluted sound from the outside world. Kagome could hear the distinctive sound of rap music; the boy's head moved to the beat.

She stepped in front of him as he emerged fully from the ground. "Excuse me, could you tell me where Professor Akitaki is?"

The boy frowned, shifting the shovel he had slung over one shoulder. "What?" he said loudly, talking over music no one but him could hear.

Kagome pointed to the headphones and the boy, realizing the problem, reached for a knob on an mp3 player at his waist. The music lessened in volume and Kagome repeated what she had asked earlier.

"The professor? I think he's in the central unit. Found some interesting stuff in there the day before." He moved passed her and began walking toward the middle of the wasteland. Kagome followed. "I'm assuming you're the lady he's been waiting for." He glanced behind him and looked at her, trailing his eyes from her face down to her chest and slim waste. "Girlfriend?" he asked casually.

Kagome grunted and slowed her pace, putting more space between them. She began to wonder if maybe Miroku had been reincarnated. All she needed now was for this boy to ask her to bear his children. "No," she replied evenly. "And I'm not looking."

The boy shrugged, grinning slightly. "Too bad." They made it to the hole and Kagome looked down; she could barely see the bottom of it, like looking into the Bone Eater's Well. As with the workers, the earth swallowed up all light trying to pry its way through. It was another gap in time in and of itself.

"I'll get the professor," the boy said. He pointed to a large tent several yards away, relatively clear of workers. "Wait over there." The earth took him too.

There was nothing else to do but wait for Akitaki to join her, so she settled herself in the tent. Inside, rows of tables, covered in dirt encrusted white cloth—probably old bed sheets—lined the walls. Kagome felt her mouth go dry at the sight of the artifacts. Ignoring the few archeologists within the tent, she went over to the tables, running her fingers over what the ground had given up.

For a moment, she was back in the Feudal Era. Most everything back then was made out of wood, and yet, everything in front of her was almost perfectly preserved: old mortars and pestles, the framework to a door, scraps of cloth from a summer yukata, broken pieces of weaponry. It was like being in a museum, and yet, she could remember seeing a replica of every single piece in real life.

Time blurred together for Kagome. Her dark brown eyes drank in the mortar and pestle, the nearest artifact to her. She studied every smooth line carefully, watching the present until she could see a pair of hands coaxing the two parts, grinding something she couldn't see. Delicate hands, long fingers, thin, unwrinkled—feminine, but strong.

Kagome blinked. The mortar and pestle were lying on the table—still. For a moment, she thought she caught the smell of mint, but it was gone before she could get a full breath.

Then she saw them, resting on a table in the center alone. The rational part of her mind told her that she was delirious, that what she was seeing was impossible. Things from the past were meant to stay in the past, said the logical part of her brain. Things that are dead don't come back to life. Then again, she had stopped listening to that part of her consciousness when she fell through the Bone Eater's Well.

Two swords lay on top of the cloth, as pristine as they had been centuries ago. The two seemed an inseparable pair, resting hilt to hilt, sheaths lightly touching. Ironic that the two brothers who had wielded them were as separate as the sun from the moon. Tetsusaiga and Tenseiga—death and life. One the property of a hanyou, the other of a full-fledged demon lord. The lowest and the highest.

Kagome's vision blurred again and she half expected to see a familiar form rising from the mists of her memory again. And a familiar for did come—just not the one she expected.

The eyes appeared first, as if they were painted on the off-white canvas of the tent. Not dark yellow eyes, Inuyasha's eyes, but lighter ones, like sun-warmed honey; molten gold eyes. The almond shaped orbs were framed by a long face with sharp angles and a firm mouth. Spun snow fell from the head and draped over shoulder's covered in armor; not Inuyasha's silver. The figure in her mind's eye was tall, towering two heads over her. A long, billowing white pelt was draped over one shoulder. He was missing an arm. Her mind was showing her the demon lord.

_But why him? Why not Inuyasha? I want to see him…_

Suddenly, her hand started tingling, the flesh hyper sensitized. It was like every nerve in her fingers was excited. Kagome looked down in surprise. Her fingers were resting against the Tenseiga's hilt.

She wrenched her arm back with a gasp as the physical world came back at full force and stared at the swords accusingly. She searched her mind, but couldn't recall moving so close to table. Its end was still brushing up against her thigh. Within her chest, her heart was pounding. She could feel the pulse of it soaring through her body.

"Magnificent, aren't they?"

Kagome whirled around at the intrusion and hit her leg against the table. She mumbled a startled curse, wincing against the new pain blooming in her thigh. Her eyes were closed when a gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, we didn't mean to surprise you. Are you okay?" It was the same voice, but it was next to her ear now. She could feel someone's breath on her neck and involuntarily shivered. Another hand came to rest on her thigh, overtop of hers.

"I thought you saw us, Kagome. Should I get some ice?" The voice was male and a little hesitant. She recognized the tone, but she could not put a face or name with it. It was nice though. Very warm if a little unsure.

The hands were moved off of her and another set took their place. These pushed her into a chair and firmly set her down. "Don't be silly Hojo. It's just a bump, I don't think it's an emergency." This voice was female, light and airy with a strong hint of friendliness.

Kagome forced her eyes to open. Two faces loomed in front of her with identical looks of concern. Both had dark brown eyes framed by light brown hair. It took her a moment, but after several seconds of intense scrutiny, she recognized the man on her left.

It had not been long, but Hojo Akitaki looked older. His hair was longer, long enough that he could tie it back and only leave a few errant strands hanging in his face. A shadow of a beard touched his chin, tiny hairs barely breaking the surface, suggesting that they were due more to days without shaving than some sense of style. The face was dirtier too, smudged here and there with mud and soil. He was also wearing glasses, a pair of thin frames that rested precariously on his nose. Like his face, they were also covered in a thin layer of filth. Kagome didn't understand how he could possibly see through the lenses. Probably something one had to adjust to.

"Hojo, it's good to see you again," Kagome said. "It's been a long time."

The man stood up and pulled a lock of hair out of his face, revealing a blush that was just beginning to flood his cheeks. "Sorry I haven't kept in touch. I've been busy. The work here as been…" he stopped, struggling to find words, but finally settled for giving the tent a sweeping glance, spreading his arms out wide as if presenting a grand work of art. "Well, you can see for yourself. I have never seen anything like this, ever."

The woman she didn't know cracked a smile. "I'm afraid you'll have to excuse him. When he's talking about his work, there is nothing else. It's his masterpiece."

"So I can see," Kagome replied, struggling not to release the chuckle that threatened to explode within her throat. He was definitely happy. The grin splitting his face was as blinding as the first break of daylight in the morning, the kind that woke a person up with blinks and squints. Hojo looked almost adorable like that, he always had. Her old friend had been attractive as a boy, but as a man—her heart was still beating too fast, but she couldn't tell whether it was from shock or from Hojo.

"I'm sorry," Hojo said, apologizing again, "I don't suppose you've met my little sister Midori, have you?"

Hojo's female companion bowed slightly, her brown hair falling into her face. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last. I have heard a lot about you from my brother. I hope you are feeling better now than you did in high school. It seemed like you were always ill, Kagome. It gave Hojo great cause for concern."

"Ill…" Kagome's mind went blank. What did she mean ill? She had rarely been sick as a girl. Then it hit her—the excuses her grandfather had used to cover for her absence while she was in the feudal era during high school. While she was hunting jewel shards with Inuyasha, her grandfather told everyone that she was sick as an excuse for not attending school. _I can't believe they even remember that… _"Yes, I am much better now. I assure you, I've made a full recovery from everything that plagued me."

"That's good to hear," said Midori. "You have to take good care of yourself."

"Of course," Kagome replied stiffly, trying to catch Hojo's eye. The man was standing behind his sister, scratching his growing beard nervously with one hand. He was staring right at her, as if he had never seen her before in his life, and the intensity of his gaze was startling enough to make Kagome squirm. Her younger brother, Sota, had the same look on his face whenever he was looking at his girlfriend. It was admiring. But why would Hojo want to look at her that way? There was nothing special about her. The girl Kagome saw in the mirror everyday was as plain as any other face in the crowd.

_Do you want him to look at you that way? _Her mind prodded. Kagome couldn't decide. On the one hand, although Hojo had made it obvious to everyone that he had a crush on Kagome during high school, they hadn't seen each other in years. In a way, it was like they just met and no respectable woman would want a man to be thinking of her in such a way the first time he lays eyes on her. But on the other hand—he was staring as if he were looking at a goddess.

Midori cleared her throat, her focus turning from the woman in the chair to her brother and back again. When it was clear that neither was going to say anything, she stood up and addressed Hojo. "Why don't you tell Kagome how we came across the swords. I'm sure she'll be as fascinated as you are."

Hojo jumped and the hand at his chin fell to his side. He seized the bait. "Yes, of course." He moved over to a table and pulled up another chair, obviously feeling more confident sitting than standing. "It was Midori who found it actually, though I wish it had been me. She discovered them in the central site, them and a stature we're still excavating. To have found something this amazing is…" he shook his head. "I couldn't begin to describe it. Two swords from the Feudal Era, in almost perfect condition, though almost everything we've found so far seems to have been preserved just as well. You can only imagine what this will do for our studies on the Feudal Age."

So she'd noticed. Everything she had come across on the tables so far looked like it could have been made yesterday, though she knew very well that they were hundreds of years old. "Just how is that possible?" Kagome asked. "Even the wooden pieces are still nearly whole."

"I've asked that question myself thousands of times, but I can only reach one possible conclusion," Hojo paused and reached for a glass vial resting on a nearby table.

Kagome accepted the vial carefully and pulled out the stopper. She shook the contents into her hand; what came out was a dark gray, softer than soil with a chalky texture. "What…"

"Its ash," Midori said, watching as Kagome studied the substance. "The only possible explanation for the preservation is a volcano. During the excavation, we encountered mounds of this stuff. It covers everything. If a volcano had erupted, it is possible that the ash and lava preserved whatever it touched."

"Like a Japanese Pompeii," Kagome said, still bent over the ash.

"Sort of," Hojo continued. "However, it's not encrusted in it. Had this been a 'Japanese Pompeii,' there would have been so much ash and lava that the substance would have formed a mold around everything, and the wood would have still decayed inside. We would have imprints as opposed to the actual objects in most cases, although undoubtedly, some of the original substances would have been preserved, but…"

"…not everything that is buried," Kagome finished.

"Precisely."

Kagome let the conversation trail off. Something about this wasn't right. She wasn't an archeologist, but even she knew that nature did not do this on its own. And her hands were still tingling from where they came in contact with the Tenseiga's hilt. The entire situation was unnerving.

"So, why tell me about the swords," Kagome asked, thinking that it was past time for a change in subject.

The confident Hojo vanished and the man sunk into his chair as if trying to absorb himself into the wood. "Well, I read your book and when I saw the descriptions of Tetsusaiga and Tenseiga, I just thought…"

"You read my book?" That surprised her. Hojo Akitaki did not strike her as a fairytale enthusiast. She had always had him pinned as a logical, bookish type of person.

"I know, it's a little strange," Hojo said, as if he had read her thoughts, "but if you step back and look at the whole picture, it makes a lot of sense. Fairytales are tied with culture and reflect the beliefs of a people, who are inevitably tied to a country's history, which works hand in hand with archeology. Your novel, although a work of fiction, holds some element of historical truth."

_If you only knew how much truth. _

"I'm glad you enjoyed it and yes, I was pleased to see the two swords. It feels like my work as come to life," Kagome replied, and silently, _again. _Honestly, the whole situation made her want to stand up, go back to her car, drive home, and never step foot anywhere near the site again, but she couldn't tell him that.

Hojo must have been pleased with the comment because he rose from his chair and crossed the few feet towards the table holding the blades. He picked one of them up carefully, holding the weapon in his right hand, gripping the sheath just beneath the hilt. He held it out to her. "Would you like to hold one of them?"

Kagome was about to say no, recalling the reaction she had just minutes earlier, but she didn't have time to argue as Hojo placed the weapon in her hands without waiting for a reply. Tenseiga was placed against her bare flesh.

The electric feeling returned the second the hilt touched her skin. It was almost as if her hand had fallen asleep, it was the same tingly feeling, except the tingling was accompanied by warmth. The sword itself was—singing. She couldn't think of another word. She could feel it humming, the tone resonating against her skin. Chords washed through her, vibrating inside her body. It was like standing in front of a large pipe organ playing at fortissimo. The sword was reaching for something, but it didn't hurt, in fact, it felt good—relaxing. Something inside of her wanted it to find what it was looking for within her consciousness. It felt—happy. The world fell away and became a hazy purple, thrumming with power. She watched various shades of violet swirl together in the back of her eyes, mesmerized.

Kagome dropped the blade as if she had been burned and raised her hands to her face. They were glowing faintly. She frowned. _My miko powers. I haven't felt them since the well closed. Why are they reacting to the Tenseiga?_

"Kagome, are you okay?" Midori's face hovered in front of her. She had caught Tenseiga as it fell. "You look a little pale, perhaps you should rest."

"I'm fine, just a little tired. Please don't worry."

"Kagome, I think she's right," Hojo appeared behind his sister. "You've never been very healthy and…"

Hojo didn't have time to finish his statement. The flap to the tent was roughly thrust aside and one of the workers came through. His eyes were wide and his face looked paler than alabaster. From where she sat, Kagome could see that the hand resting on the canvas door was trembling. "Professor Akitaki, you need to come to the main site now! Something's happened. Please." The voice was panicked, wild.

The worker didn't wait for a reply. He left the tent with Hojo on his heels. Kagome followed them to the hole at the center of the camp where the remainder of the excavation team was gathered, the recent emergence of her miko powers pushed to the back of her mind.

She leaned over the edge and gasped. The bottom of the hole was covered in blood. From the smell of it, the blood was still warm. The earth was soaking it up slowly, taking it all in with great thirst. Around her, Kagome could hear voices shouting in desperation. Above the roar, Midori and Hojo were giving orders, calling for an ambulance, although anyone could see medics would be useless.

Two dead faces stared up at her. One she didn't know, but the other was the boy who had helped her find Hojo earlier. His hair was now dyed red and she could no longer see the color of his eyes; they were rolled up into their sockets. His headphones were miraculously still there, smashed against his ears and embedded into the skin, but whole. Both victims' mouths were open, but she couldn't recall hearing anything from within the tent earlier. Neither victim had time to scream.

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AN: I was going to put more in here, but I think that's enough for one chapter. Sesshoumaru will appear in the next one. Also, I apologize for the delay in this chapter. I was working on a project for school, so I didn't have time to write. This chapter was a bit rushed. Till the next update, please, please, please take some time to review! I love criticism.


	4. Chapter 3

Chickahominy Creek

Of All Possible Worlds

Chapter 3: A Past That Will Not Fade

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha

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"You didn't see anyone leaving the excavation site?"

"No," Kagome said, locking her fingers around the edge of the table to keep them from rising to her head to massage the massive headache forming at her temples. It had to be the third or fourth time she'd answered that question, but she couldn't complain—Officer Ichimura had it worse than she did.

Unlike the other officers who had interviewed her within the last hour and a half, Ichimura was a relatively young man, probably in his early thirties. The dark blue policeman's hat sat firmly on his head, his dark sweat drenched hair curling slightly around the edges. Piercing eyes stared out from under the brim, boring directly into hers. He carried no notebook or any other note taking device that she could see, but it was obvious he was soaking everything in, sitting straight in the chair across from her, one finger tapping out a rhythm on the table. Kagome followed it carefully with her ears, almost able to make a song out of the beat. Making up lyrics in her head was better than making up a scenario for what happened, which was what had been dominating her thoughts since she began the interviews. She wondered if he was thinking of any particular tune, or if the rhythm was completely random.

Recognizing that he wasn't getting anywhere with Kagome, he turned to Hojo, who's facial color had finally returned to normal after seeing the scene at the main site. "Mr. Akitaki, can you please tell me what was being excavated at the crime scene?"

"A statue," Hojo replied stiffly. The words sounded like they were having trouble coming out. Kagome's mother had once told her that sometimes, a demon would hold a person's tongue to punish him for speaking ill of the demon. Perhaps that was the problem; a demon had Hojo's tongue.

_Perhaps a demon caused the worker's deaths. _The thought came unbidden, but the second it surfaced, Kagome immediately staunched it. Demons didn't exist anymore outside of textbooks and old fairytales. They made for excellent stories, but time had left them behind long ago—or so she kept telling herself. The way those men had been killed…

"A woman?" Kagome pushed her thoughts aside and back into the conversation at Ichimura's reply. She had to focus on the now.

"Yes, a woman. Beautiful. We were thinking maybe some kind of minor goddess or spirit. A guardian of some kind…" Hojo trailed off. His mouth was clamped shut and Kagome could visibly see him shaking.

Midori obviously noticed as well and placed a hand on her brother's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. She herself had a glazed look, though she at least exuded an aura of calm. "We don't know exactly who it was a statue of, but like everything else here, testing has placed it at the Feudal Age," she said. "It was the most life-like statue I have ever seen. Every joint, feature, and strand of hair was perfectly shaped. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the woman had been alive at one time. She had this look of horror on her face that was nothing short of masterful. The detail was breathtaking."

"There were pieces of broken stone on the ground found by the victims' bodies. I assume that if I were to have them tested, I would also find residue dating back to that time period and some fingerprints from workers?"

Midori nodded, frowning. "Yes, I would assume you would. It is a tragic loss. That statue was priceless to the scientific world."

_Never mind the people who died excavating it, _Kagome thought bitterly.

Officer Ichimura glared at her as if he was taking her apart piece by piece and Kagome involuntarily shivered. Not only was he being rude, but Kagome could swear the room temperature dropped several degrees. Heat was peeling off her skin, like tiny layers being lifted. He was trying to peer at her very soul by removing the shell around it, stripping aside, skin, muscle, sinew, blood, and bone. It wasn't painful, but the hairs on the back of her neck were on end. Strangely, the sensation didn't unnerve her. Other than an uncomfortable chill, the touch was actually pleasant. She could even feel her miko powers dancing from the contact, they reveled in the sensation—that unnerved her.

Ichimura remained silent for a long interval, and Hojo squirmed. Midori didn't even flinch. Finally, the officer rose slowly from his chair and bowed slightly. "I thank you for your cooperation. When my department knows something, we will contact you. How may I reach you?"

Midori recited a contact number then bowed in return. "I hope this is sorted out soon. These events will be detrimental to our research."

Kagome wanted to scream at her. _Who cares about the research? Two people are dead and we don't know who killed them!_

"You have my promise that we will do what we can." Shooting one last glance at Midori, Ichimura left the tent. When he left, the tension seeped out of the room. Kagome didn't know what to feel about Ichimura. He didn't seem to like Midori too much and there was something about him that both attracted Kagome and at the same time urged her to keep the man at arm's length.

When the officer was out of earshot, Hojo sank into his chair, letting his head roll back listlessly against his shoulders. "I am so sorry about this Kagome. I never would have guessed that—I didn't think…"

Kagome placed one of her hands over his. "No, it's not your fault. There isn't anything you could have done. It is I who should be apologizing. Two of your worker lost their lives today. It is a horrible tragedy."

Hojo opened his mouth to contradict her, but instead, just gave her his sincere thanks. He released her hand with a smile and stood up, removing his glasses to wipe them clean on his shirt. "We should probably go make an announcement to the crew, let them know what's going on."

"Yes," Midori said. "I'm sorry that we have to cut our meeting short, Kagome, but under the circumstances, it may be best for you to leave."

"I understand. It is no problem. I should probably be getting home anyway."

"You have a book signing coming up, don't you?" Hojo asked.

"Yes, tomorrow as a matter of fact, in the evening."

"Well, good luck."

Kagome nodded and bowed one more time before rising from her chair and making her way towards the exit. Before she reached the tent door, however, she paused at the table holding the two swords. Her hands itched to reach out and touch them. Her miko powers were tingling, equally eager. Those two swords, especially the Tenseiga, had their own force of gravity for her. It actually took an effort to move away from them.

The pull eased as she made her way into the baking sun, but she could still feel it at the back of her mind as she moved toward the car. She climbed in without looking back, fixing her eyes on the road in front of her, taking the path back through the grove of trees.

She could still see the faces. The two men hadn't looked human anymore, just twisted lumps. They were nothing more than piles of flesh holding broken bones at the bottom of a hole in a wasteland made by their own hands.

A small voice in her head told her that she should have been revolted, scared, sick—but she wasn't. All she felt was pity, though there was more than enough of that to make up for all the others she was lacking. She'd gotten used to seeing mangled bodies in the Feudal Era…

_The group had been moving steadily forward all afternoon, Miroku and Sango on Kirara with Kagome and Shippo on Inuyasha's back. They were hoping to make the next village by nightfall. Kagome prayed they would get there; a warm bed and with a hot meal were sounding worlds better than another sleepless night on the ground and ramen noodles. Inuyasha, though, wouldn't mind the noodles. _

_She had been busy filling her stomach in her imagination when Inuyasha stopped and sniffed the air. Kagome leaned in, burying her face in his hair just below his left ear. "What is it?"_

"_Blood," he said solemnly. _

_Kagome clenched him tighter, digging her fingers into the thick fabric of his kimono. "Blood?" she repeated._

"_Yeah. A lot of it."_

"_A battle, perhaps?" came Miroku's voice from above. "Should we go check it out?"_

_Sango wheeled Kirara in the direction Inuyasha was facing and urged the giant cat forward. "I think we'd better, especially if there's a village nearby. Someone could be in trouble." _

_Inuyasha didn't reply, but followed the other three up the hill. They didn't have long to go. As they reached the peak, the valley opened up to reveal the charred remains of a village. Inuyasha put her down and Kagome followed him numbly on foot towards the charred remains._

_Her nose not being as sensitive as the hanyou's Kagome didn't pick up the scent until they were almost four-hundred yards from the entrance. She quickly sucked in some air and bit her lower lip as they crossed the threshold._

_Burning flesh. _

_Anything that had been wood was now cinders and ash. The buildings were still smoldering and Kagome could feel the heat as it pressed against her body. Smoke filled her throat and clawed at her lungs. She drew the sleeve of her shirt to her mouth, inhaling deeply. She squinted, trying to clear her vision; tears ran down her face, squeezed from her eyes by the sting of the heat._

_The first body was meters from the entrance; a young woman, the charred remains of a basket dangling from one limp blackened finger. Kagome could barely tell that the mangled mass had once been human. The flesh was singed all the way around, the scraps of a kimono tatters over the cooling mass. Scraggly hair covered the head, messy as overturned straw. It looked like it was glued to the skull, held fast by caked layers of blood. Thin wisps rose from an area still lightly glowing with fire._

"_It's recent," Miroku said, his voice solemn. "A few minutes, an hour at most."_

_Sango moved next to Kagome, kneeling down to study the remains of the young woman. "I wonder how many were here."_

_No one replied. Kagome didn't want to think about it. The fire had been sudden, she was sure. The way the woman was positioned on the floor—she couldn't have known what was coming. It was likely most of the residence were either dead or had fled from the fire._

"_We should bury them," Kagome said softly. Inuyasha nodded. "I'll start digging," he replied. Kagome eased herself down beside the body and began uttering prayers for the dead. Her voice would be hoarse by sunset._

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Soshiro Ichimura collapsed at his desk and flung his hat into the nearest corner, not caring where the damn thing landed. He forced his body to relax into the cushions of his chair, but he couldn't get it to sit still. His fingers tapped out tuneless rhythms on the armrest, his feet swiveled the chair from left to right, and he crossed and uncrossed his legs.

His mind ran through every conversation again and again. The professor, his sister, the black-haired woman, the various workers at the scene—every word replayed back to him as if he had recorded their voices onto a tape player. He kept rewinding and fast forwarding, hoping to catch a comment that was useful, something that would lead him to the right conclusion. Hell, any conclusion. At this point, the only thing he was hitting was a solid wall.

He slammed his feet on the floor and sent the chair backwards, flying into the wall behind him with an audible thump. Nothing made sense, nothing at all. _No fingerprints, no suspects, no marks on the bodies. _ His mind reeled. _What could have caused those injuries? _Thousands of ideas, hundreds of scenarios, zero answers and only one suspicion—one he would never put on the record books because there was no evidence to support it. His word didn't count as plausible cause.

And then there was that raven-haired girl. Something about her nagged at him too. He was missing something…

A knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts. "What do you want?" he called, hoping that his annoyance didn't show, or if it did, that it would make whoever was at the door go away.

The door swung open and a brown-haired woman walked through, closing the door firmly behind her. Soshiro had to hold back a grin; he should have known. The person in front of him had one of the strongest presences he had ever encountered. Her head held high, green eyes staring directly at him without hesitation. High cheekbones and angular features gave off the impression of a bird of prey; the full lips would fit better on a geisha.

Reia Takinao was more than a competent officer—it was why he chose her as his partner.

She didn't wait for an invitation to sit, just eased herself into the chair in front of his desk. "Have the lab reports come back yet?"

"Some." Soshiro pulled himself up to his desk so that he was closer to her. "They didn't help. No fingerprints, no footprints or hair of any kind. No evidence. No suspects." He leaned back with a frustrated sigh. "Perfect, isn't it?"

"They put us on the case?" He could hear that smile behind her comment. Well, at least one of them would enjoy this. She didn't have to do the paperwork for cases like this. Those forms were a pain to fill out when there was nothing to fill in the blanks.

"Yeah." Of course the higher-ups put them on the case. They put him and Reia on everything that was labeled 'nonstandard investigation,' also known as 'too freaky for anyone else in their right mind to handle.' There were always cases that seemed to lead to dead ends. The force never asked any questions, which Soshiro thanked his lucky stars everyday for, but they had come to trust that he would get the job done. How do you find suspects that don't leave any trails?—for most of the forces in Japan, "I just know," doesn't fit the bill.

"Do we have any leads at all," Reia asked.

"Nope, nothing. We have no leads on a suspect, however, I do have an idea of where to begin." Soshiro wheeled over to the computer and began sifting through the network's filters until he found the desired file. "What do you know about Higurashi Kagome?"

Reia arched an eyebrow in response. "The author? Not much. Is there a reason I should?"

Soshiro nodded. "She was one of the witnesses at the dig site. And she's where we're starting."

"This sounds like another one of your hunches…"

Soshiro gave her a wolfish grin. "And since when are my hunches ever wrong?" Reia groaned and shook her head.

"That one time in Odaiba…"

"That one doesn't count. And we still caught the suspect."

Reia chuckled. "Yes, but…"

"No." That was a subject never to be brought up again.

"Ah, yes. You're ego. Sorry, sir."

"Right."

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The sun was just setting when Kagome pulled her car off the freeway. She eased her vehicle onto the main street, following it past the campus. Traffic congestion, though never nonexistent, had eased past the standing crawl from the afternoon. It was near the dinner hour and most people were indoors, going about their everyday business as if nothing was wrong with the world.

Kagome was trying to clench the uneasiness that choked her.

Hojo had called her cell only minutes ago to confirm that she was okay, saying that he felt guilty for not taking her home himself and that he should have been more understanding. It was a small comfort to know that he cared, and she reassured him over and over again that she would be fine—except that she wasn't.

Her stomach was still in knots and there was an incessant tingling flowing through her blood, a pressure beneath her skin. It was like her body was a soda can that had just been shaken—the only thing holding her miko powers in place was the stopper that she put on top, a thin piece of will that wouldn't contain the power's excitement for long. She could hear it, singing softly in the back of her head.

She was far from "fine," and wasn't sure she had been so since climbing out of the well for the last time. Just once, she would have liked to tell someone how she really felt when they asked if she was okay. "Fine" was such a courtesy response, an automatic reaction to a common greeting. People were rarely "fine." They just didn't want to burden others.

Kagome turned her car into the entrance of the parking garage with a sigh, rolling down her window before fishing her key card out of the glove compartment. When the gate lifted, she eased her way in and pulled her car up to the first empty space she found, which didn't take long. The garage was deserted.

No one met her within the vast cavern, her footsteps echoing through empty corridors. With the sun setting outside, the ancient fluorescent lights were just beginning to flicker to life, blinking away the weariness after a day's rest. They cast long shadows against cement columns that obscured all vision. Kagome made a mental note to complain about the lighting in the garage again to her landlord. She had actually tripped over the speed bump last week and didn't want a repeat of the incident that nearly caused a sprained ankle.

The apartment complex was only a few steps from the garage and Kagome was through the door and up the steps in a matter of minutes. Her room was on the fourteenth floor on the east side, overlooking the city.

Once inside, she absently flicked on the entrance light and threw her keys and purse onto the kitchen counter before grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator and leaning against the wall with a sigh.

Like most apartments in and around Tokyo, hers wasn't very big. There was a small living room separated from a miniature kitchen by a single wall. The living room wasn't heavily furnished, containing only a small sofa and love seat, coffee table, and a bookcase with a television on top. Despite the cramped living space, it was immaculately neat, as was everything else in her apartment with the maybe the exception of her desk, which was the best example of orderly chaos she had ever encountered. It was where she spent the majority of her time. Her workroom was just off the living room, a small hole with a window in one side. There was a bedroom on the other side of that.

Despite being the dinner hour, Kagome wasn't hungry and decided her time would be better spent working. She needed to get the day's events out of her head anyway. The writing would calm her, even if she only managed a few pages in her distraction.

She was halfway to her work room when something on the coffee table caught her attention. Immediately, her mouth went dry and a shiver raced up her body, setting her hairs on end. The room got colder and Kagome found herself frozen in place. Though she was incapable of movement, her miko power was gushing and it made her stomach churn.

A thin ray of light fell from a crack in the curtains, reaching through the folds to caress the scabbard of two familiar swords that were resting on her table as if they had always been there.

She stood flabbergasted at the two weapons. How had they gotten into her apartment? What would Hojo say when he found them missing? What would the police say? Thousands of thoughts flickered through her head, but none of them stuck. They grew wings and flew off to roost elsewhere until she chose to dwell on them. Right now, the swords drew her like a magnet.

Mindlessly, Kagome moved toward the table until her shins brushed the end. She knelt shakily, lifting one trembling hand toward the sword with the white hilt and gray pommel. Her hand tingled. Every rational part of her mind was screaming no, telling her that she would somehow regret touching a piece of her past that had been unearthed in the present. Despite the protests, her right hand landed softly on the Tenseiga's sheath.

And the barrier on her miko power shattered.

The power that had been threatening to emerge since she first saw the sword burst through her and consumed her body, lifting her cloths and twining through her hair. Cool, fresh energy. A lavender haze filled her vision and the room around her vanished until she was standing in a light purple void. It spilled from her, filled her; she became a part of the flow. An overwhelming sense of calm filled her, replacing the anxiety and fear that had coiled within her. As Kagome's miko powers, harnessed for so long, spilled out, she resigned herself to its soothing clutches. The energy that was so harmful to demons was a balm for a miko, but there was no telling what would happen after the initial release.

_A little too late to be worrying about that now,_ Kagome told herself. She was still vaguely conscious of the sword in her hand and the attraction between her powers and the weapon present that afternoon hadn't dissipated. Tenseiga vibrated in her hands, striking a harmonious chord with the shimmering energy crackling around her. It was a bright major in her ears, resonating in a thrilling hum.

Kagome was just getting used to the presence of her power when the mists began to accumulate into a solid form. Squinting through the haze, she could just discern a human shape through the mists, taller than her and broader in the shoulders, lithe, muscular—clearly a man.

The haze slowly lifted and revealed the figure that it had shrouded. Kagome almost forgot to breath.

Standing in the light of the rising moon was an element of her past she had hoped never to encounter again. Pale light grasped snowy locks of hair, twining through it like a natural ornament. The hawk-like features of his face were completely relaxed, the masks of authority, disgust, hatred, and arrogance removed for the moment. Although the cloths that covered his body were ancient to her modern eyes, they suited him like nothing else ever could, from white hakama to the armor protecting his upper body. His hands were at his sides, claws resting lightly against his hakama. A crescent moon symbol adorned his head, shining in answer to its heavenly counterpart.

_Sesshomaru…_

Kagome's eyes drank in the image, her mind reeling until one coherent word finally emerged—_beautiful. _

Suddenly, the demon's eyes snapped open. They settled immediately on Kagome and held her in place. The startled miko watched in shock as the demon lord vaulted her couch and drew Toukijin from its scabbard.

In less time than it took her to blink, Kagome was pressed between the body of the demon lord and the glass door leading out to her balcony. She had closed her eyes at the initial impact, but she lifted them when she felt the cold bite of Toukijin at her neck. Sesshomaru was pressing down just hard enough to break the skin and she could feel the tickle from a drop of blood that was making its way down her neck.

"Where am I?" Sesshomaru's voice came out as a sharp hiss and Kagome struggled not to squirm. She could feel his breath on her cheek, tickling her ear. She shivered. He had to hear her heart pounding within her chest, she felt like it was going to break through her ribcage.

She tried to gather enough of the power that had been seeping out of her seconds ago to form a suitable attack, but could summon enough of her scattered wits to make so much as a spark and cursed silently when she couldn't. She had fought thousands of demons in the Feudal Era, so why couldn't she call forth enough to at least shock the one currently threatening to end her life?

Sesshomaru dug the blade further into her neck. "That wasn't a request. I demand to know where I am."

Kagome shoved her hand through the crack in the curtains behind her, frantically searching for the doorknob. "Tokyo," she said, surprised that her voice was reasonably steady. She didn't want to go any further. She didn't know how she'd explain a five-hundred year jump in time to someone who was currently holding a sword to her throat. A short explanation would probably end her life and something told her that the demon lord wouldn't be willing to listen to a longer explanation over a cup of tea in her kitchen.

"I do not know of this village. What province? It isn't in the Western Lands," her captor demanded. Kagome's hand finally found the doorknob. If she could make it outside, perhaps she could run down the fire escape, though the chances of outrunning a full demon were slim.

She twisted the lock and pushed the door open behind her. Unfortunately, Sesshomaru chose that same moment to bear down on her and grasp her shoulder with one clawed hand. Their combined weight sent them both flying backwards through the doorway and onto the metal rail of the balcony.

Kagome hit the ground hard and the air rushed out of her lungs. When she found that she was trapped underneath Sesshomaru's body and couldn't draw in another breath, she squeezed her eyes closed and braced herself for death. She waited for the final bite of metal to pierce her throat. She suddenly wished with all her heart that she had spent more time with her family and her friends. Everyone had been so good to her since she emerged from the well for the last time. She kept seeing all their faces as she counted down the last moments of her life, waiting for the blow that would sever her head from her shoulders.

Except it never came.

It had been nearly a full minute since they had fallen through the door. Sesshomaru's body was pressed against hers, chest to chest, hip to hip. She was surprised to feel his heart beating in a steady tattoo against her chest; she had been under the impression that it was something he lacked. One of his thighs was pressed against hers, pinning her sharply to the metal grating beneath her. The hand that had grasped her shoulder before their fall was still there, but it had slackened its hold, enough that she could roll the bruised limb and ease some of the discomfort.

Kagome cracked open her eyes and found her face only inches from her assailant's. Eyes the color of spring rosin framed by coal black lashes were opened wide, but they were not staring down at her. They were fixated just above her. No emotion showed on his face, but judging by his wide-eyed stare, she could tell he was shocked.

Wondering what had caught the demon lord's attention, Kagome craned her head back and gasped at what should have been obvious in the first place. Beyond her balcony, the city of Tokyo, Japan's largest metropolis, was lit up against the backdrop of the rinsing moon, the lights from the city forming a galaxy of tangible stars.

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AN: Sesshomaru finally makes his entrance. This wasn't the initial entrance I had planned for him, but I think it was effective nonetheless. I also didn't plan for Ichimura to become an important character. He just kind of shoved his way in there. I wonder what he wants…

Thank you for all the reviews, I loved them  Reviews keep me happy. As far as who killed the men, all shall be revealed in due time, but I did drop some small hints in this chapter. What happened to Kikyou will eventually be revealed also (at the same time as the murderer actually, the two are intertwined). I hope you all enjoyed and please read and review.


	5. Chapter 4

Chickahominy Creek

Of All Possible Worlds

Chapter 4: The Demon From the Feudal Era

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha. I hold no rights to the anime/manga whatsoever.

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Soshiro flashed his badge at the officer standing next to the door of the theatre and moved through the double glass doors without so much as a backward glance, feeling the eyes of the guard following him as he moved away. A smile tugged at his lips. It was a common reaction that he got from any authority. Despite his rank, Soshiro was dressed in a pair of wrinkled khaki pants and white shirt, untucked and lacking a tie. He hadn't bothered to change back into uniform and running a comb through his mussed hair would have been a waste of effort. Judging by his fellow officer's silent assessment, he was sure that he came off looking like some high school punk off the street. But it was comfortable.

He spared small attention to the poster on the wall as he moved toward the double doors at the end of the hall. It advertised the night's attraction. "The Fairy Queen, A Ballet in Two Acts," was plastered across the front in bold red letters above an illustration of a small winged creature perched on top of a rose.

Other officers in blue uniforms swarmed the entrance hall, most of them trying to get a rather shocked crowed of people outside. There was a dull roar coming from the crowd, voices raised in anxiousness and fright. Soshiro glanced again at the report Reia had handed to him before leaving the office just a little after seven o'clock and shook his head. These people had picked the wrong night to see a show. And he'd picked a bad night to be on active duty—not that it really mattered. The office had his home phone anyway.

The door opposite the stream of visitors was propped open and Soshiro moved through it and toward the stage. Although the theatre didn't look like much from the street, the inside was the perfect rendition of an Italian opera house. A huge domed ceiling supported by roman columns towered overhead. The seating on the ground followed the shape of the dome, circling around the stage. From the ground floor was latticed balcony after balcony, almost touching the roof. Statues of angels perched on the columns next to the second story on each side, wings spread with trumpets held aloft, as if announcing the beginning of a performance. It was a striking scene, dizzying in its presentation and built to send any sound from the stage echoing throughout the chamber. The houselights were dimmed; most of the light came from the stage, which was encircled with florescent yellow tape.

Most of the forensic specialists had left, so Soshiro had a good view of what had sent everyone lacking a police badge out of the theatre. He took a deep breath, and then another as he approached the stage.

The girl resting on the floor hadn't been moved. Her willowy limbs were still twisted at jagged angles, just as she had fallen. Hair the color harvest wheat fanned out around her, pillowing a pale face that lacked any semblance of life. No one had closed the girl's eyes yet, leaving the whites to stare up at the ceiling. Blood trickled from her open mouth, pooling on the lacquered wood beneath her.

Soshiro clenched his teeth, the images of two other victims immediately emerging from his memory of a few hours before. And there was that _feeling _again, that left over residue that made him want to choke. Two cases in less than twenty-four hours with similar victims—it sent shivers down his spine just thinking about it.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even see a man coming up behind him. "Not very pretty is it?" Soshiro jumped at the voice and whipped around, but immediately relaxed once the man walked up beside him.

"Don't do that, Tanaku! I have enough to set my skin crawling without people sneaking up on me." The other man smirked, but his slightly glazed black eyes stayed locked on the girl. Police Commissioner Toro Tanaku was the most senior man on the force, old enough to be Soshiro's father, but still reluctant to retire. He didn't usually come out to investigation sites and despite the air of calm the man was exuding, that thought alone was enough to make Soshiro's mind race.

"She was one of the dancers?" said Soshiro, his voice quiet. Of course she was one of the dancers.

The commissioner nodded. "Shizura Himiko. According to the accounts, she was in the middle of her solo routine when she suddenly stopped. She started swatting at something, clawing at her head, gave one shout, and collapsed. She was dead before she hit the floor. The paramedics have already been by. It's not official, but whatever killed her wasn't medical. There aren't any prints." Tanaku paused and turned to face Soshiro. He leaned in, his eyes darting around them to make sure that no one else overheard their conversation. "You feel something don't you? It's the same as the site earlier?"

Soshiro appreciated the discreetness. Soshiro was one of those people that most of the population considered—odd. He had been born with the ability to see auras, of course, as a child he didn't know what the shadowy images were. The pale, colorful lights that hovered around people had overjoyed him at first, and he would point, telling anyone willing to listen about the pretty lights. His parents indulged him for a while, but once they started to shun him for it, he shut up. For years, he never told a single soul. Not until he was twenty.

He had been a student at Tokyo University during the time when Jin Koni, a suspected thief, had been caught and brought into custody. Unfortunately, the police hadn't been able to get a confession out of him, which is why Reia had come knocking on his apartment door at seven in the morning, dragging him out of bed. He still remembered her exact words. "Ichigumo-san, your gift is needed, please come with me." She hadn't even asked if he was Ichigumo. There had been no doubt in her voice or any trace of a request, though she had been polite. She had simply grabbed his hand, pulled him out of his apartment, and led him to her car. Later, Soshiro learned that although Reia had no abilities of her own, she was able to feel everyone else's and track down anyone with a trace "oddity." She couldn't detect shifts in power, only sense it presence.

The most obvious use for Soshiro's abilities was detecting a lie, which was extremely simple. A person's aura changed when they lie, sometimes in shape, sometimes becoming a darker version of its original shade. An aura, he had learned, was a reflection of the soul and a person's true feelings. A body was merely a shell, used to either express or mask the movement of what was inside. When Reia had put him before Jin Koni, Soshiro knew immediately that the man wasn't telling the truth. The color of his soul, a hazy yellow, darkened several hues when he was asked any question pertaining to the case. Soshiro joined the force a week later. That had been three years ago.

In this case, however, he was looking for a trace, a residual footprint of the soul that murdered the girl at his feet. A bit different from working with a live person because the presence lacked the strength it wielded within the actual being. With a living person, it was like turning on a switch. When he wanted to see an aura, he switched his focus and looked, but with the dead—it required more concentration and energy. It was like the difference between following an actual person and following a set of footprints on a dark night.

Soshiro knelt down beside the girl and leaned over, placing his hand above her, hesitating just a few centimeters from her forehead.

"Go ahead," Tanaku said softly behind him. "The forensic specialists have already been and gone. You can not destroy any evidence by touching her now."

Soshiro nodded and let his hand fall. He reached for the last traces of the aura he had sensed earlier. The process was a bit like probing a marsh for sinkholes with a stick. He felt around for fragments of sensation until he found a soft spot. The difference was that instead of treading on solid ground, Soshiro would have to dive into the cracks.

Except that finding those traces wouldn't be hard this time. He should have had to differentiate between the girl's aura and whatever else was lying over her prone body, but he didn't. There was nothing left of her aura at all, and it was the strangest sensation against his hand. It was like reaching out and touching ice and it made him shudder. Tiny pinpricks of—something—were igniting the nerves within his fingers, sucking him in. Soshiro ignored it. He had to find those last few traces—there!

Without hesitation, he shoved his consciousness forward, focusing on the spot. He nearly screamed. The pinpricks that had been present before intensified. No longer were tiny sensations pulling at his hand, it was a black hole trying to suck him in. Not so sure that he wanted to be so close anymore, Soshiro tried to pull himself back, but apparently, the residue wanted more than just the girl's soul. It wanted his.

The world around him dropped away and black crept in from the corner of his eyes. With horror, Soshiro realized that the blobs of energy were taking form. Dark claws reached upward from the girl's body, grabbing his arm and raking steel across his skin. Pain lanced through the limb, jumping from nerve to nerve. Soshiro threw up mental barriers, feeling the power lacing through his system. It slammed against the wall of his mind, pounding and scrapping to get in. He could feel his defenses weakening as if they were nothing more than a sheet of rice paper, the claws renting more holes with each stroke. Each powerful blow jerked his body with its force.

Somewhere within his consciousness, he could hear someone screaming. Cries of pain that could only come from a person being tortured, condemned to the racks. They were horrible and deep. They were coming from him. He could barely recognize his own voice.

Soshiro felt arms come around him, hands locking onto his wrist and suddenly, he was being hauled backwards across the stage. When he opened his eyes, there were several blurry faces staring down at him in concern. Someone at his back supported him from behind, gently rubbing small circles over his scalp and making soothing noises. He lifted a shaky hand and rubbed away the tears.

"Move aside everyone. He's an epileptic—just had a seizure. Give the man some room." Tanaku. The commissioner was beside him, waving his hands at the crowd as if that simple act alone would get them to disperse.

"Are you alright, sir?" This voice came from behind him and thankfully, it was a familiar one.

"I think so, Reia," Soshiro replied, not at all surprised that his voice came out hoarse and gravelly. He inched himself upward until he was in a sitting position and then turned around to face his partner. "When did you get here?"

"About five minutes after you started screaming."

Soshiro blinked. "Five minutes."

"Yes, you were out for awhile." Tanaku knelt down beside them, his eyes darting back and forth between Soshiro and the fallen dancer. "What did you see, Soshiro?"

_What did I see? _"I have never encountered anything like this. It's—the girl has no aura. Not even a trace. It's like whatever got her sucked out every last drop of her soul."

"It almost had you too," Reia said quietly.

Yes, it had. Not an easy thought. It was something that he never wanted to encounter again if he could help it, but…

"Would you be able to identify the thing that did this?" Tanaku asked.

Soshiro nodded stiffly. He doubted he would be able to forget it. He wished he could, but this made three people dead in less than twenty-four hours from the same source. It was unreal, and running loose in Tokyo—just perfect… He knew exactly where he would be spending his time until all this was over. He was suddenly very glad that he kept a futon in his office closet. There were some long nights ahead of him.

"You're remaining on this case Officer Soshiro." It was a statement, not a question from Tanaku.

Soshiro huffed, tapping his fingers on the stage floor next to him. "Do you know of anyone else on the force who can track down a person who leaves no fingerprints or clues of any kind other than a garbage disposal of an aura? Of course I'm doing it! Wouldn't miss it for the world! I'll have the entire paragraph of utter nonsense for this incident on your desk tomorrow morning. It will take me that long to think of something believable." _After a few hours of sleep. Assuming I can sleep after this…great._

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_There is a demon in my kitchen. Drinking my tea._

That was the thought that kept playing over and over again in Kagome's mind as she watched Sesshoumaru take another hesitant sip of the oolong tea she had produced from her kitchen cabinet. The demon lord was still making an intense study of her Disney World coffee mug, holding it up to the light, turning it this way and that—with two hands. She wasn't quite sure whether it was a result of Tenseiga or something previous to his summoning, but no matter how she looked at it, the arm that Inuyasha had chopped off had regrown.

He looked out of place in the middle of the small area, standing between the microwave and the sink, dressed in familiar white and red, full armor in place. White hair nearly the same shade as his clothing fell in waves over his shoulders and along the counter he leaned against. Occasionally, rosin colored eyes would flit from the mug in his hand to Kagome, who was leaning against the opposite side of the counter.

She felt like a specimen under a microscope and hadn't moved since they entered the kitchen. Her own tea lay untouched near her hand, which was gripping the counter so hard that the knuckles were turning white. It was probably cold by now.

Sesshoumaru had been pretty much silent since they had left the balcony, which was why Kagome jumped when finally spoke. "Explain again human. Where am I?" The voice was a low tenor that still held a hint of threat. It wasn't loud, but then again, it didn't need to be.

"I've already explained it once, Sesshoumaru."

"Then explain it again human. My patience is wearing thin. I want the truth. And you will address me as Sesshoumaru-sama. You have no right to call upon me by my name alone." The demon lord set the glass back on the counter. Kagome could just see a tinge of red flickering in the depths of his eyes. His claws were extended. Although she was annoyed she wisely kept her mouth shut. Sesshoumaru continued. "What you say is impossible. You were the hanyou's mate. You died five-hundred years ago, two years before he mated Kikyou. What you have created for me, ghost miko, is an illusion, and I want out." Sesshoumaru took a step closer and held out a clawed hand for emphasis. There was a deep growl emitting from his throat and Kagome backed herself further into the woodwork. However, she was not as terrified as she probably should have been. No, instead she was angry, frustrated, and just too tired to deal with the full demon lord standing in her kitchen. With her tea.

Kagome gave an exasperated sigh. "Sesshoumaru-sama," she said, straining with the 'sama' at the end of the name, "if this is an illusion, how come I'm solid? Why were you able to touch me earlier? For that matter, what would possess me to create such an illusion and why would I choose twenty-first century Tokyo?"

The pale-haired demon took another step closer, a hair's breadth from the woman in front of him. Before Kagome could blink, a sharp, dagger-like claw was at her throat just short of drawing blood. The touch was colder than iron. She remembered those weapons, how they cut through other demons like they were nothing more than twigs. Her first instinct was to reach for something to defend herself with, but the only thing within reach was the notebook she used for story outlines. It was within arm's reach, but something told her that a piece of paper wouldn't have done much against the demon lord of west.

Not now anyway, but long ago in another's hands, a piece of paper might have done the trick. In China and Japan, it was rumored that there once existed a type of sorcery that could breathe life into paper with magic. These paper mages were expert craftsmen, using their art not only for entertainment, but in their roles as guardians as well. So sharp were their creations that they could pierce flesh with their many folds. It was told that one such mage even fought the Great Sky Dragon of China, taking it down with a pinwheel while defending a village.

Unfortunately, Kagome was no such mage. Instead, she met Sesshoumaru's eyes squarely. There was nothing else she could say or do that would make this situation any better.

"Human?" The claw floated from her throat to her cheek.

Iron bit into her flesh and she felt her skin give away. It burned going down, a startling contrast to the ice she had felt seconds before. He was almost right up against her. She could smell faint traces of cedar and pine.

With strength driven by anger and frustration she pushed as hard a she could against the demon lord's chest. Though obviously a great deal weaker than a full demon, Sesshoumaru was so startled that Kagome managed to drive him back far enough for him to loose contact with her.

Kagome had the pleasure of seeing her assailant's eyes go wide in surprise, rosin irises catching more light, his pupils becoming pinpricks in the fluorescence. "First of all, my name is Kagome! Second, I am telling the truth and I can't explain the situation any other way. Third, I am tired, I have had a long day, and I have a book signing tomorrow afternoon. I do not have the time or the patience to deal with some arrogant dog right now!" Her voice inclined with each sentence, and at the end, she found herself gasping for breath, more worn, but feeling better.

Sesshoumaru, after his initial brief surprise, reverted back to his stone cold mask, and shoved a strand of his hair back into place. "I see you shall not cooperate," he said with a nonchalance that beguiled Kagome's earlier outburst. "That is extremely unfortunate. This Sesshoumaru can see your anger. We will get nowhere tonight. If you will show me to my quarters I will rest and allow you to try again tomorrow. Perhaps then you will be more cooperative."

_His quarters? _Kagome thought, shocked. He did have a point though. Where in the heavens was she supposed to put him exactly? Somehow, she doubted that the couch would provide the best accommodations for the "lord."

Still in deep thought, Kagome pointed to the door on the left beyond the living room. "My room is over there and it's the only bedroom in the house, but…"

Sesshoumaru waved his hand as if to hush her and abruptly turned, striding toward the closed door. "It will have to do. If I must, I shall seek more comfortable lodgings later." He was at the door in seconds and flung it open, disappearing inside before Kagome could force a word of protest out of her mouth.

The miko stood gaping, her eyes focusing on where the demon lord had been only moments earlier. Anger rose within her chest, combining smoothly with the stress that already had her emotions running out of her control. Then, as swiftly as it came, it evaporated, leaving her body feeling weak.

She sagged against the counter. For the first time that night, she noticed depth the bone weariness that threatened to pull her beneath the boundaries of consciousness. She still had a book signing tomorrow and she needed rest to with the long lines and crazed fans that would undoubtedly swarm around her.

Sighing, she drained her cold tea and set the empty mug in the sink, promising herself that she'd clean it tomorrow. Will alone carried her across the living room and into her office where she didn't even bother turning on the light. She made her way over to the closet and pulled a futon off of the top shelf. The layers of fabric were somewhat heavy, but once on the floor, she managed to drag the material to a space next to her desk.

Kagome unfolded the futon. The sheets had never been removed and it was far too hot for a coverlet to be needed. After ridding herself of her pants and socks, she shoved the sheets aside and crawled in.

_Who knows, maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and all of this will be a bad dream." _

She was asleep in moments.

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Lord Sesshoumaru of the Western Lands stared at the strange room with a stony calm that belied the torrent of confusion that swamped his thoughts. The room was nothing like his quarters in the Palace of the Moon. There were no candles to light to illuminate the area, but that scarcely mattered. Moonlight filtered through the window and Sesshoumaru's demonic vision could pick out every detail as clearly as if it were daylight. Although the walls felt like wood, they were covered in a layer of white and beneath his feet was a rug that covered the whole of the room. The room was sparsely furnished: a closet in one corner, some kind of chest next to it, and another small chest next what looked like a raised futon.

Sesshoumaru moved next to the bed and placed one hand on top, his left hand, leaning into ever so slightly. When he felt it give, he slowly eased his body onto it, surprised to find that the piece of furniture was actually quite comfortable. Satisfied with the accommodations, he removed Tokajin from its customary place at his side and began shedding the outer layers of his clothing until he was stripped to the waist. When everything was folded neatly, the demon lord allowed himself the comfort of sinking into the bedding with a long sigh. Unconsciously, he flexed his left arm, the presence of the limb still strange. Somehow, in this dream world, he appeared whole, lacking the distinctive disfigurement that had marred him since that fateful battle with his younger brother.

He had to admit, his brother's wench had created a powerful illusion; he had not expected so much power. Everything felt real and there was no hint of the smells he normally associated with spell work. In fact, everything he did smell, he did not recognize. And there were so many; never had his senses been so overwhelmed by foreign and conflicting odors: sour, rancid, acerbic, warm, and spicy. It was bad enough that he could hardly breathe. In an effort to block it out, he shifted onto his side and inhaled—sweetness. Sesshoumaru wrinkled his nose.

It was not an unpleasant scent, but its power tore through his senses and invade his mind. He could recall Rin picking flowers that held a similar presence—Jasmine, she had called it—but there was a subtle difference. Jasmine, he recalled, was calming, light. This was stronger, not nearly as submissive. It took him a few seconds, but his senses settled and eventually, the scent brought calm. It blocked out many of the other offensive smells that pervaded the small space.

_It's not just the smells; this is powerful magic the miko works with, _the demon lord thought, recalling the events of the last couple of hours. The first thing he had seen when he opened his eyes was the wench and confusion had made him rush towards the only source of answers present. An action that ultimately led to further confusion. Sesshoumaru's brow creased in concentration as he recalled the thousands of tiny fires that danced in the distant sky, the light from tangible stars that illuminated the dark background. The light had been accompanied by a clamor the likes he had never heard. A greater din than the clash of armies.

And the wench had acted all innocent, which annoyed him even more, yet there were no outward signs of a lie. Every word escaping her mouth had been uttered without hesitation and full confidence, which meant that she was either an extremely good actress or she was telling the truth.

He refused to accept that she was telling the truth, because he knew what she said to be impossible. Humans taking over the known world—unheard of. Such weak creatures were not capable of dominance. Changing times, magic wells, reincarnations…it was all ridiculous. And yet, that train of thought led him right back to where he started.

Examining the present was leading him to a dead end and with an irritated sigh; the demon lord closed his eyes and tried to recall everything he possibly could before opening his eyes to this undoubtedly fabricated world.

_Sesshoumaru could still feel the heat of battle from those final hours. The air had been thick with tension, vibrating with raw power created by a combination of the jewel, tetsuaiga and tokajin. Although it had been afternoon, the sun was swallowed up by the darkness of the moon and the ground had shaken as it was torn asunder beneath their feet. _

_Inuyasha had rushed passed him, Tetsuaiga raised for a strike, aiming an attack toward the heart of the green energy that was accumulating in front of them. The hanyou hadn't stood a chance. Sesshoumaru watched as his half-brother, a long time enemy, disintegrated before his eyes in a flash of light, his soul wretched from smoldering ashes. _

_Green light lashed out, tentacles of crackling energy defending the darkened figure of the woman within. The demon lord dodged a stinging whip that was thrown at him, weaving in and out, careful not to settle in one place. Despite his pace, however, his enemy was faster still. He let out a cry of anguish as he felt fire burn across his ankle. The pain brought him to the ground, paralyzed by the feel of boiling blood and melting flesh. _

_His barely caught the movement of the tentacle above him, didn't try to move away as it descended. Something told him he should move, but somehow, he knew he wouldn't be fast enough. It was best to accept death when it came. _

_The light flared and Sesshoumaru flinched, waiting for the pain that would inevitably come. He took a final breath…_

_A powerful shove slammed him into the earth and there was a cry above him, high and piercing. Something landed on tip of him, pinning him to the ground. Hands clasped his shoulders beneath his armor squeezing tightly to the point of trembling. _

_When Sesshoumaru opened his eyes, he found a pair of familiar face near his, feminine and pale as the moon, waning and scrunched with pain. A cascade of black hair fell around him like a starless sky, hiding the rest of the world from view. _

"_Sesshoumaru-sama. Are you alright?" Concern bled through the pain and the demon lord felt his eyes widen at the tremble in her voice. _

_Though rationality would have been against it, he dropped Tokajin, which occupied his only hand, and reached for her face. "Rin…"_

_She beamed, a small trickle of blood escaping through her parted lips. "My lord…you are alive…" She gave his shoulder one last grip and then collapsed against him, hands slackening. _

_His heart was pounding as he sat up, clutching his ward tightly. Frantically, he leaned over and placed his cheek near her mouth, hoping to find a hint of life. His vision wavered slightly and he called her name, stroking her cheek with a clawed finger. "Rin…" He got no response. The flesh beneath his hands, once full of life and warmth, was cooling beneath his touch. Still, he wouldn't give up. He brought his face closer to her's until their foreheads touched. "Wake up Rin. Your sword is still needed in this fight. You are too strong to lie down and die…Rin…"_

"_Leave her Sesshoumaru."_

_The demon lord turned at the sound of the voice behind him. It was a cool voice, almost distant, like its owner was speaking from the top of a mountain instead of an arm's breadth away. Most demons would have been afraid of that voice. Sesshoumaru had no reason to fear._

"_Kikyou," he said, his voice low as he addressed his brother's mate._

"_You won't reach her here," the miko said quietly. "You'll have to wait awhile yet. We shall be joining them all very soon." Sesshoumaru shivered as he felt power being wrapped around her. The priestess dropped her bow and reached for the chord around her neck, pulling out The Jewel of Four Souls. A swift yank tore the jewel from its confinement and when the miko clenched it tightly within her grasp, pale pink ribbons of energy sprang from its depths. Strings of power raced around her body like silk upon a weft until she was lit by a blazing halo. _

_Sesshoumaru had never felt a power such as this; had never seen the jewel perform in such a manner. A streak of lightning arched across the dark sky, followed immediately by rain and wind. Beneath him, he could feel the ground trembling, the beginnings of an earthquake preparing to unleash its force. _

_And the glow of The Jewel of Four Souls continued to grow until the miko lit up the area without the aid of the burned-out sun. _

_With her free hand, she stretched out an arm. "I don't have enough power to get rid of it, but with your help, I might be able to seal it." She moved closer to him, reaching for his hand. "Will you accept?"_

_Sesshoumaru reached._

The logical assumption would have been that he had died. He could still feel his soul being ripped from his body, used to form the wards that would seal the bane of the creature that had stolen the lives of thousands of his people. And yet, he was still breathing and he felt like he had simply woken up from restful sleep. Had that been the miko too? No, a human could not possibly have that kind of power.

The demon lord moaned. Another direction that made no sense. _Perhaps, it would be best to leave these thoughts for another time._ Perhaps, all would be clearer in the morning.

Sesshoumaru kept his eyes closed to his surroundings, but try as he might, his body would not find rest. Beyond the walls of the room, noise filtered in from the outside and the unfamiliar smells kept his senses awake and alert. Sleep was impossible.

End Chapter 4

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Chickahominy Creek: Wow, thanks for all the reviews, I'm so glad that people like this story. I've been working very hard on it. I should probably also address some of the questions I've been getting.

As far as what killed the men at the site and what happened to Kikyou and Sesshoumaru in the past, you'll have to read and find out. I can say that the two events are tied together. I did reveal some of the plot in this chapter and the truth of the matter will be out in its entirety within the next two chapters of so.

To address the "random" characters—there is not a single appearance without a purpose. I don't introduce names if I'm not going to use them in some way. Every person that has appeared thus far (with a name), will have an important role in the story either as a major of minor character (including Kagome's cat, which was mentioned in the first chapter).

The folklore and flashbacks: Again, everything has a purpose. The folklore is going to crop up again, especially the bit that was revealed in this chapter. Kagome, in this story, is a specialist in folklore, so I wanted to make more use of that other than just having her as an author of her own history. Some of the folklore I mention is actual folklore from a specific culture, some of it is a combination of cultures, and some of it I make up on the spot to suit my needs using a bit of real culture. Some of it culture someone else made up.

Suffice to say, there is more than meets the eye and what you think you're seeing may not be the actual truth, depending upon which character's eyes you are viewing events through. Narrators are not always reliable.

I hope this answers some of the questions everyone has. Please keep reading and leave me some reviews! Also, on a side note, if anyone would be interested in being a beta reader for this story, please let me know.


	6. Chapter 5

Chickahominy Creek

Of All Possible Worlds

Chapter 5: Quivering Melody

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

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Sesshoumaru's eyes snapped open as he felt something wriggling against his chest. Before he could register what had awoken him, his hand came up and grabbed for what was causing the irritation. His palm came into contact with a thick pelt of fir and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found himself looking at a pair of piercing green eyes.

With the exception of a slash of white over one eye, the cat was completely black and blended in extremely well with the darkness of the room. The creature swished its tail back and forth and despite the grip he had on it, no sound of protest was drawn forth. Instead, it seemed to absorb him with its emerald eyes; slit pupils narrowed.

A thrust of his hand sent the cat sprawling to the floor. He heard a light thump as it hit the ground, landing on its feet, and scampered. The demon lord swung his legs over the edge of the bed and immediately began dressing himself, throwing on the familiar billowing layers, missing his armor, which unfortunately had not followed him into this nightmare. When the obi was tied in place, he grabbed Tokajin from where it leaned against the wall and secured it at his side.

The girl was still asleep in the other room. He could hear the slight intakes of even breathing from the other side of the wall and her heart beat in the steady pulse of sleep. Although there was no light in the room, Sesshoumaru knew that dawn approached and he wanted to explore this world the miko had sealed him in. Perhaps if he knew enough, he would be able to find a way out, and with her currently unaware of what was happening while she dreamed, he would be able to depart unnoticed.

Except for the cat. The black-haired creature stared up at him from the floor, following him carefully with slight movements of its head. Sesshoumaru glided toward the door and heard the steady padding of light feet behind him.

Weak light seeped between the curtains, casting the room in a dim haze. Sesshoumaru briefly considered the front door, but quickly banished the idea—he did not know what was beyond that. There was only one door that he knew for sure led to an exit.

First, however, there was another matter to attend to. His father's swords still rested upon the table. Although he rarely used the blade, Tenseiga was his and as such, it should remain with him. The sword soon lay beside Tokajin.

The demon lord threw aside the curtains and moved the glass door aside. He had managed to tone down the sounds and smells during the night, but with all barriers removed between himself and this world he had been thrust into, the chaos came back in full force. Despite himself, Sesshoumaru winced and covered his ears.

Never before had he heard such clamor—it was deafening. Slowly, the demon forced himself to adjust and tone down the noise to a tolerable level. When he could listen without the barrier of his hands, he moved to the edge of the balcony, staring down at the awakening city beneath his feet.

The miko told him last night that there were no demons left in "modern Tokyo." Although he wanted to deny it, the thought alone unsettled him even if there was no possible way such circumstances could occur. Demons, exterminated—preposterous. It was laughable. Humans simply were not capable of defeating his race. Such creatures with no physical defenses, little strength and short life spans stood no chance against him.

Yet—Sesshoumaru could smell no trace of his brethren. Then again, this was a mere image created by a weak woman. It was likely that what he sensed wasn't real. Yes, a mere illusion that he would have to break. No one, absolutely no one, captured the ruler of The Western Lands and imprisoned him against his will—especially not a weak miko.

Sesshoumaru growled softly and gripped his swords, making sure that the two weapons at his side were secured. Then, with a natural grace, he braced his hand on the rail and vaulted over, racing the wind toward the streets below.

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Kagome blinked as dappled flecks of sunlight hit her eyes with the full force of morning. Her watch alarm was going off, and she suspected that it had been beeping for some time. The dial was reading eight-fifteen—it had been going off for the last half hour. She jammed the button on the side and sat up, throwing the covers in a heap at the end of the futon. Every muscle in her body was complaining. It had been a long time since she had had to sleep on the floor.

She frowned when she thought of the reason she had been forced out of her bed last night. There was no noise coming from the room on the other side of her office door, and there was no way to tell whether her unexpected guest had awoken from his slumber yet or not. Recalling what she knew of demons in the Feudal Era, however, she thought it likely. He'd probably been up with the dawn.

After refolding the futon and returning it to its place in the closet, Kagome padded across the floor and out into the living room. She opened the door cautiously, expecting to see Sesshoumaru somewhere on the other side, but the room beyond the door was eerily quiet. Her heart began pounding at this revelation and she shoved the door the rest of the way open, striding into the middle of the room until she had a full view of her whole apartment. The living room was still and nothing seemed out of place. The kitchen was likewise deserted, the dishes from last night still sitting in the sink.

With increasing uneasiness, Kagome raced to her room, hoping that the demon lord was still in her bed asleep. Her hands shook as they hovered over the doorknob, partly because she was afraid of not finding him there, and partly because the thought of waking up a full demon from sleep in a strange place did not appeal to her first thing in the morning. Kagome took a deep breath to calm herself and gently pushed the door open.

The bed looked like it had never been slept in. The sheets and covers were neatly tucked under just as she had left them with the pillows on top. Not a single wrinkle could be found in the fabric. Every speck of evidence betraying that Sesshoumaru had spent the night in her room was gone, not a hair was left.

Kagome's hand dropped from the doorknob as she stood in the doorway, staring ahead in shock. She swallowed thickly and rapidly moved to the coffee table where she had set Tetsuaiga and Tenseiga the previous night. Inuyasha's sword hadn't moved from its position, but the Tenseiga was gone from its side.

Kagome sat down on the couch as she felt her knees give out. "Damn."

There was a demon, a full-fledged demon _lord_, loose in twenty-first century Tokyo. Kagome's mind couldn't fathom what Sesshoumaru could possibly do in the city. How many lives would be lost before he was finally subdued…_if _he was subdued? And he had Tokajin with him. A cursed sword capable of massive destruction…

_Stop! _Kagome gave herself a firm mental shake. _He won't destroy the city._ Although the thought sounded ridiculous, she couldn't help but find truth in it. Yes, Sesshoumaru was a powerful demon, but he hadn't killed needlessly in the past. He wasn't overly fond of humans in any degree, but he had never gone and slaughtered whole villages either. If anything, he usually ignored them.

Besides, it wasn't like she could do anything about it anyway. Not only did she have a book signing in a matter of hours, but even with her miko powers aiding her, there was no way she could find such a powerful demon if he didn't want to be found. Of course, that also applied to anyone else in the city as well. Despite his feudal garb, Kagome had no doubt that the people of Tokyo would never notice the demon in their midst. And if something did happen, at least she wouldn't have to go through the trouble of tracking him down.

With a shaky breath, Kagome managed to calm her rapidly beating heart. She couldn't afford to worry about Sesshoumaru right now. Even under the present circumstances, she still had a life that she was not ready to watch crumble before her eyes, not when she had worked so hard to rebuild it from the ground up.

The clock on the microwave was reading fifteen till nine. With renewed determination, Kagome went about her morning routine—a quick breakfast, an equally speedy shower before getting dressed, and a final once over before walking out the door.

There was a demon loose in Tokyo, but for once, The Feudal Age would have to work with her schedule.

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Chidori's Restless Haven, or as the students called it "Haven," was one of the most popular gathering places in the western part of Tokyo. Located three blocks from the university, it was a niche in the city carved for those looking for a place to fall away from the rest of the world. It was five stories high and simultaneously housed a music and dance club, book store, and coffee shop. The apartments above were periodically rented out to local artists, many of whom either had worked displayed at Haven or performed within its walls. The first floor, which was the coffee and book shop, was lined ceiling to floor with paintings from local artists.

This afternoon, however, there was a sign out front, announcing the appearance of a special guest—the author of _A Feudal Fairy Tale_.

Kagome stood on the sidewalk for a moment, not quite ready to walk through yet. Entering Haven was walking into a different world. During her studies, Kagome had come across the concept of a veil between worlds, such as the one used between Ireland's Sidhe world and the world populated by mortals. Under normal circumstances, the barrier between the world of magic and the world of man could not be crossed, but on certain nights in chosen places, one could move between the veil, along roads woven of magic and dreams to another place both similar yet so otherworldly that it is hardly recognizable as reality. Such tales had always been Kagome's favorites. To many of her classmates, the tales of Ireland's otherworld were unbelievable, but Kagome never dismissed them as ludicrous. After all, they were no more ludicrous than jumping down a well connecting to The Feudal Era.

Haven was an other-realm in itself. The building separated the life of the busy Tokyo streets and the calm atmosphere of colorful and imaginative sights and sounds. Entering the complex, Kagome was stolen from the noisy din outside into the soft whispers of Haven's main room. People sat at wooden tables about the coffee shop, drinking beverages from the bar and talking amongst themselves, relaxed and carefree. Like the paintings that dotted the walls, the people were a variety of characters, ranging from businessmen on their lunch breaks in their pressed suits and ties, decked in black from head to foot, to the resident artists in vibrant ensembles that were wrinkled or covered in paint. Men and woman, ranging in age from the young teens to well into retirement gathered in every corner.

Kagome's eyes swept the room until she caught sight of a familiar face amongst the black suited businessmen. Yuki, seated midway between the bar and the stage where a new band was just beginning set up, caught her wandering amongst the crowd and motioned her over.

Beside her with his hands folded on top of the table was a tall wiry man in a loose white buttoned shirt. His long black hair was tied back in a messy knot at the nape of his neck, the end draped over one shoulder. He followed Yuki's gaze and caught Kagome's form in the front entrance. The grin he flashed her was warm and he gave her a brief nod.

Yuki and her companion stood when Kagome made it to the table. "Kagome, this is Shu Nazeki, the co-owner of Haven."

Nazeki bowed. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you Miss Higurashi. My wife and I are big fans. I can not tell you what an honor it is to have you in our establishment at last. We have waited a long time."

Kagome bowed in return, but her mind was working overtime. The owner appeared pleasant enough, but his last words put her on edge. She had not been famous for what she considered a "long time." Perhaps it was due to her time traveling experience. For someone who had spent years going back and forth between epochs simply by jumping down a hole in the ground, a little over a year would seem like a short gap. Likely, he was just trying to be polite.

Her mind calmed with the rational thoughts. The side of her that faced reality, the more logical side, had taken hold—unfortunately, her logical side seemed to be losing to the irrational lately. The effect of the recent events involving Sesshoumaru and the two swords was enough to cause a case of acute paranoia in anyone.

She shrugged off her uneasy feelings and offered him a smile of her own. "I am glad to be here."

Nazeki nodded once and then gestured towards a long table weighed down by dozens of her latest book next to the stage. "Everything is ready for you Miss Higurashi, however, you are not scheduled to appear for at least another fifteen minutes, so if you would like to have a seat here until it is time for the signing to begin, you are more than welcome to. Have a cup of coffee on the house and listen to the next group. I assure you, they're quite spectacular. The lead player is particularly apt."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you." He bowed again. "Now, if you would excuse me, I have to be behind the bar by the start of the next performance. I have assigned two of my employees to help with the signing. They should arrive in another few minutes or so. Please let me know if there is anything I can get you."

As Nazeki walked away, Kagome and Yuki took seats at the table.

"This is excellent Kagome," Yuki said, eyes shining. Although she had been calm in front of Nazeki, her friend couldn't hide the rising excitement in her voice. Kagome had to admit that the excitement was contagious. Butterflies were beginning to blossom in her stomach, too.

"Do you have any idea what this is going to do for sales?"

Kagome held back a small chuckle. "No, I don't. Probably not much. People have already read these books. I'm just glad that sales went as high as they did."

"It doesn't matter that people have already read them! Given your popularity, that should actually increase the number of people here today. Yes, everyone has read the book, but now they can get a signed copy."

"Which probably won't be worth anything."

"It shows they appreciate your work."

One of the waiters brought them two steaming mugs of hot coffee and Kagome took it graciously, immediately bringing the mug to her lips. "I suppose that's true. I am glad that people enjoy my work." _Even if I wrote it more for myself than for them._

She was about to elaborate when a voice behind her caught her attention. "Kagome? I thought you would be signing by now?" Midori Ashitaki leaned in beside her, offering Kagome a wide smile.

A beat later, Hojo appeared at his sister's shoulder, resting a hand on the table so he too could lean down. "The sign outside says the signing begins at twelve. She still has a couple of minutes, Midori."

"Yes, just enough to enjoy a cup of coffee. What are you two doing here?"

"Hojo wanted to come for your signing," Midoriko answered, giving her brother a small shove. Hojo returned it with an annoyed glance, his face taking on a hint of crimson.

Kagome arched an eyebrow in surprise. He had come for her signing? She felt something in her jump at the thought. With all that had occurred, she thought that he would have remained at the dig sight trying to sort things out, but here he was, leaning over her table, grinning down at her as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Honestly, she was a bit flattered. This was a man who was nearly her boyfriend in high school, would have been her boyfriend had circumstances allowed it. Looking up at him now, she couldn't help but feel at faint flicker of hope.

Kagome was knocked out of her thoughts by a cough from across the table. Yuki was staring at her hesitantly, glancing from the woman sitting across from her, to the man standing over her, to the woman between them. "Yuki, sorry. I'm sure you recall Hojo Akitaki," Kagome said, indicating Hojo who gave Yuki a brief nod. Yuki's eyes widened at the mention of Hojo's name, obviously as surprised as Kagome by some of the changes. "And this is his sister Midori. Hojo, Midori, Yuki is my editor and a long-time friend."

Midori took a step back and bowed. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

After brief introductions and a quick explanation, Yuki again swept her gaze between Hojo and Kagome. She gave her friend a sly grin and Kagome felt her heart speed up when she pushed her chair away.

"Well, I could use another cup of coffee. I'm getting a refill." Yuki tossed Midori a quick glance and then walked toward the bar. Midori must have gotten the message because a second later, the brown-haired woman excused herself and made her way toward the restrooms next to the stage.

For a moment, the two remaining at the table remained silent. Hojo pulled over a chair and took a seat, leaning into it with a sigh. "They've known each other for five minutes and already they're collaborating."

"It seems so." Kagome took another sip of coffee, taking more time with it than she would have otherwise required. Another second of silence went by. "So, how's the dig?" A touchy subject, but better than others she could have chosen.

"The dig is great, as well as it can be. I gave the workers a few days off, but most of them didn't take it. They seem to have gotten it into their heads that not finishing the dig on time would be a waste of two lives."

"Right—that's good of them," Kagome replied.

"It is." He removed his glasses, fumbling with them a little as he toyed with the corners. She now had a clear view of his eyes—calm, earnest eyes. "Listen, Kagome, you and I both know that I didn't come here to talk about the dig." He took a deep breath and closed the ends of his glasses with a soft snap. "My feelings haven't changed Kagome. You know how I thought about you in high school and…you were going through so much at the time, so I didn't really ask…and now…"

"And now would be a good time?" Kagome finished. _I don't think it would ever be a good time._

Hojo shook his head. "No, probably not. With everything going on this isn't that much better, but still."

Something in her wanted to say yes. Yes because it meant that she had put everything else behind her. Yes because if she was with someone, maybe she would begin to forget. But that was the problem, she hadn't forgotten. Inuyasha still held fast to her heart and accepting Hojo while her heart was still captive, even to a memory, seemed wrong.

That was her answer. "Hojo, I'm sorry." She saw the disappointment in his face and she felt what was left of her heart tear. "It's not that I don't feel anything for you, I do, but there was someone else a while back. He's gone now, but I cannot forget him. I don't want to hurt you, Hojo. I'm sorry, but I think I still need some time."

To her surprise, the man beside her nodded in understanding. "It's okay." He put his glasses back on, breaking the spell that had been placed over the table. "Hell, it's nice to know that you feel something for me at all." Hesitantly, he reached out and grabbed one of her hands, giving it a light squeeze. "I can wait for you. As long as it takes. Perhaps though, you wouldn't object to seeing me from time to time?"

Kagome smiled. A few dates here and there actually sounded promising. "Of course."

Hojo looked as if he were about to say something else when a hush fell over the room. An eerie note cut through the stillness and though it was only the beginnings of a strain, Kagome could feel it almost as if it were a physical force—the jolt was so great that someone may as well have cut her with a knife. She could feel it catching in her throat and traveling through her body, flowing through her blood until it found a contented place in the recesses of her mind. Breathing became so hard that she had to put the mug down. Her eyes were drawn to the stage.

Two stage lights shown on a three member band, but despite the clear illumination of three human figures, Kagome's eyes were drawn immediately to the lithe figure in the center. It was a girl, her midnight hair shining dark blue in the lowlights, form draped over an instrument few would recognize. Though Kagome had never heard one played live before, she new immediately what it was—a shamisen. It was reminiscent of a guitar or a lute, but had a more slender neck and fewer strings attached to a round box at the bottom.

The woman swayed with the force of the music, her fingers flying over the Japanese instrument. The music being coaxed from the shamisen was not Japanese, however—it was Celtic. It was an odd combination, a traditional Celtic suite, light and carefree, combined with the sharp striking sounds of the shamisen. However, the effect was like rain falling on a sloped roof with a sharp initial tap then smooth and flowing.

The player was a master. She gave Kagome the impression of a siren, except she never opened her mouth and allowed her skillful fingers to enchant instead. The song had Kagome's heart pounding. It swept and rang, filling her with joy and excitement, building until she was about to burst. The skin on her arms was tingling, like they did when she activated her miko powers, but it was not unpleasant. The chords wrapped around her, laughing and tingling as they enfolded her in their essence. She felt like she had just jumped into a warm flowing stream. It wanted to pull her away, and she let it, allowing herself to flow along with the tide.

When the final note faded, Kagome was not surprised to find herself wiping tears from her eyes. Yuki, who had returned from the bar in the middle of the piece, was just one thread shy of bawling while simultaneously trying her hardest not to laugh. Her friend pulled a handkerchief from her purse and began dabbing her eyes.

The hush remained over the room at the end of the piece and the woman remained hunched over her instrument. She raised her head a fraction and stared straight at Kagome. Across the room, Kagome's dark eyes met with clear violet orbs. A slight pink haze began to surround her vision and she recognized her miko powers surfacing, but oddly enough, she felt no panic over it. The woman grinned and dropped her shamisen.

Suddenly, the audience was on its feet, clapping with a few cries of "encore." Kagome found herself swept up with them, the impact of violet eyes temporarily forgotten.

A hand brushed up against her shoulder and Kagome spun around and confronted two men in Haven uniforms, white t-shirt and khaki pants. "We are ready for you to begin now Miss Higurashi."

Kagome cleared her throat, still trying to find a voice. "Yes, of course. Lead the way."

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"Nabuo, can you pack up the sound equipment?"

Nabuo snapped the clasps on his guitar case shut and slung the instrument over his shoulder before rising. "Sure thing Nightingale. You want them on the truck first?"

The violet eyed musician in front of him nodded. "Yeah, it's the heaviest. Come to think of it, you may want to ask Rione to help you."

"Sure thing." Nightingale thanked him and walked in the direction of the bar. _Probably needs to speak with the manager_. Nabuo did not immediately start packing up the equipment, however. Instead, he watched Nightingale walk away from him, her long black hair falling down her slim back in silken waves. It swayed slightly as she walked.

Nabuo swallowed thickly and tried to catch his breath. The way she ensnared him was so natural. She had his heart racing and she wasn't even trying. The woman was almost inhuman in appearance with her raven locks, violet eyes and pixie face. Nightingale was gorgeous—and she had him under her little finger. He had been attempting for a solid week to ask her out, but so far had yet to display any relationship besides friendship.

_And that was a golden opportunity right there!_ Nabuo cursed silently. It had been perfect. There was no one else backstage, the adrenaline from the performance was still running high and with all the rush in trying to get everything off stage and onto the truck, no one would have noticed that the lead guitar and shamisen player were absent. Now, he would have to wait for another chance.

In frustration, he yanked the chord to the guitar amp out of the socket and began bundling it up. When Nightingale said sound equipment, she didn't mean much: three amps, their connectors, cables and the mixer. It would only take him minutes to load everything into the truck in the back parking lot.

He was throwing the last surge protector into the crate when something next to the curtain caught his eye. He stopped, his hand hovering just over the box. A shadow rushed over the lights and Nabuo gripped the surge protector tighter. His muscles tensed, ready to move. "I know you're there."

Something moved on his left and Nabuo pivoted, eyes focused on a gap between the curtains. The rungs holding up the heavy material shuttered, the clack of metal on metal louder than it ought to have been. He wanted to look up, but he didn't dare take his eyes off the curtains.

At last, the shadows took form. A pair of slender legs and hips encased in tight jeans stepped into the light, hesitating for a moment before continuing. High heeled boots clicked as they encountered hollow wood, drawing steadily closer, revealing more—loose white tunic style top, long neck and dark woodland eyes. The girl was stunning in the light, with her lips parted ever so slightly and a question in her eyes. With the light framing her, she looked like something out of one of his wildest daydreams.

Nabuo blinked and dropped the surge protector. "You're not supposed to be here. Are you lost? I can help you find your way back if you want."

The dream creature moved closer. Nabuo shuttered, feeling a draft of cold air. _They must have turned up the air conditioning after the performance. _He told himself that was it. The lights made the stage very uncomfortable, especially in the middle of the summer.

The girl held out one slender limb, a pale, thin hand that reached out towards him. "Will you help me?" Her voice was soft. It sang out and washed over him. Blood pounded in his ears and without any thought, he felt his own arm raising. Never had he felt so heavy. It was like the air was too thick to move in, to voluminous to push aside. Finally, skin met skin as his fingers glanced over hers. He had never touched such softness. The pads of her fingers were the texture of new roses. He stopped breathing. Their hands clasped, fingers intertwined.

Without warning, pain shot through the connection. Roses turned to needles that tore through the thin barriers of skin. Then it pulled. Nabuo screamed as his body went rigid. It was like claws reaching into him, blowing his mind to pieces. Memories flashed across his vision—a boy on a bicycle, a birthday cake, high school graduation, his parents, younger sister, the band…and then they were forgotten. He called out names, screamed for help, screamed until he couldn't even remember his own.

Lips crashed down on his, drinking ravenously from his mouth, sucking and pulling more until he was dry. He felt his body slacken. He tried to flee from the onslaught, but every path led to a wall. There was no chance of pulling away and everything darkened—the pained never lessened.

He could not tell when the lips left his, but he heard her soft voice, like an echo from far away. "Mine," she whispered.

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Never before had Sesshoumaru encountered anything remotely like Tokyo. After attempting to move through the city on foot, he had finally taken to summoning a demon cloud to carry him over the mob.

He recalled the human villages as being noisy, bustling places of constant activity, but those tiny groups of huts were nothing to the towering masses of steel and concrete. There were people everywhere, occupying every space possible, crammed together and trying to move in all directions at once while being guided by only the streets that ran up and down, under and over. It reminded him of mud sliding down a steep cliff at a crawl in the spring after the snows melted. The sludge was thick with rock and debris smashed together and like the flow of people, it was directed by deep gullies.

It had to be a different world. Not only were the humans dressed in similar attire as the miko, but they road around inside metal beasts that exhaled smoke and talked into tiny bugs that they held to their ears. Many had holes in their ears and wore odd paint to mask their faces. Signs with fire in them drew his attention as did the huge portraits plastered onto the sides of the many buildings. No one seemed to carry a weapon of any kind.

He had actually attempted to touch one of the metal beasts. It had been the color of a fire dragon scale, shimmering with a cold gleam. When his fingers graced the metal, a man standing beside it began yelling. The man's tone had made Sesshoumaru flex his clawed hands, but he restrained from harming the insolent fool. It was not the time to be causing trouble. He needed to study this new world before making any decisive actions.

Not only were the people he encountered rude, but they were nearly unintelligible. The demon lord was able to recognize the language spoken around him as his own, but the words and sounds used were difficult to distinguish. The pronunciation was off somehow and it took intense concentration to decipher a sentence. It was giving him a headache.

And the smell was worse.

Before he left, the miko stated that demons no longer existed in her world. Naturally, that was impossible. Demons would never allow what lay beneath him to happen unless it suited their own purposes. It was very likely that there was at least one in control somewhere, intermingled amongst the filth so as not to be detected. The demon lord had to admit, the human population was great, and a ruler would be wise to keep his servants in ignorance. Still, it was odd that even he had found no trace of such a creature.

Sesshoumaru crinkled his nose in disgust. Even from above he could still smell them on the air—the stench of human flesh would cover anything. His stomach clenched and he had to shake his head to clear it. The thought alone was nauseating. Wherever the demons were, their scent was heavily masked by the dominant human population. Yet another difficulty to add to his already impossible experience. It would be a challenge—he had been given worse.

The demon lord was flying towards the miko's home when a strain of sound made him stop in mid-flight. The melody of a shamisen reached his ears and he unconsciously gave the order for the cloud to lower until he could hear it clearly. Each pure tone hung in the air, as if pulling him down with a chain of melody, the same way a kite would be pulled in with string. The musician's skill was great, but it was not the talent, or the unknown song, that attracted the demon lord—it was the power laced into every coaxed note. It was familiar, though he couldn't place it yet. Probably because the energy was held in check. Whoever was playing was more than a skilled musician; this person had a powerful spirit as well.

The music stopped and the demon lord peered through the clouds. His gaze fell on a small building west of his position on the streets below and deciding that the laced power warranted an investigation at the very least, he ordered the cloud to fly towards the source.

He touched ground in an alleyway next to the building and softly crept towards the street, clinging to the wall in an attempt to stay out of sight. A keen ear caught the clamor of voices inside and sounds of constant movement. Despite his reservations, he took in a deep breath through his nose. A familiar smell overwhelmed his senses.

It was the not-Jasmine he had smelled the night before, in _her_ room. Just perfect, the miko was inside. Sesshoumaru growled and one of his clawed fingers scraped the brick beneath his hand, leaving a deep gouge in the foundation.

He wouldn't let her presence affect his decision. As the Lord of the West, he had a right to be wherever he pleased. The miko would have to cope. However, lord or not, he still did not relish returning to that particular woman's sight. If his search through the city had indicated nothing else, it told him that until he knew more of her spell, he would have to stay close to her. _I'll know more about her enchantment later. It won't take long to get her to talk. _Sesshoumaru flexed his claws, a smirk gracing his features. _Such soft flesh humans have. If she won't speak voluntarily, I simply…_ He finished the thought with an image of the miko at his feet, begging for her life. After all the frustration she had caused him, it was a pleasant picture. So long as he restrained the instinct to kill her so the woman could return him to his rightful place, such a plan would serve his purpose perfectly.

Sesshoumaru pushed the miko from his mind. He would deal with her later. Right now, he needed to find the source of that music.

As he exited the alleyway, a crash inside had his hand poised on Tokajin. Someone screamed and the widow nearest him shattered as a chair was thrown through it, sending glass into the streets. He drew his sword and ran towards the fray, doubting that anyone would notice his weapon in the commotion.

Cautiously, Sesshoumaru eased himself through the shattered glass and launched himself towards a raised platform against one wall where he could see everything happening within the room. Humans were running for every available exit, pushing and shoving to get out.

The demon lord quickly scanned the room, ignoring the panicked humans…_mud._ Another piece of furniture went flying and Sesshoumaru followed the trajectory to a man near his position. The man next to the platform appeared human, yet the man held one of the room's tables over his head as if it were no more than a pillow. Sesshoumaru had never encountered a human with such strength. The demon studied the man for a moment longer, inching closer.

He was attempting to throw the table, but several humans in white shirts surrounded him, grabbing onto the table in an attempt to lower it. The table-man was pushing against them, head lowered like a charging bull.

Something didn't smell right. Sesshoumaru had forgotten the powerful stench of human and focused instead on the cause of the commotion. The odor pushed through his mind, tugging on something he should have remembered. It was not a strong smell, a mere trace of something much larger. He was tempted to get closer, but as of yet, his presence had not been noted and for the time being, it was best to keep it that way.

Suddenly, the man glanced up, giving Sesshoumaru a perfect look at his face. The features were blank and whiter than alabaster. Eyes that held only darkness bore into him and he felt a cold shock run up his spine. All the pieces fell into place in his mind and it left him reeling in shock. He filtered through the memories of the month before awakening in the miko's home and scowled. He knew that odor now, and it further complicated his situation.

The man froze as he focused on something just beyond the men barricading him in. The demon followed the line of sight until he caught a familiar shock of black hair moving away from him—the miko. Sesshoumaru saw the man's movement just before the table went flying, and a fraction before the woman turned with wide eyes to see the wooden missile barreling toward her.

Sesshoumaru leaped from the platform.

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Kagome had been rising from her seat at the table beside Hojo and walking towards the signing table when the man, whom she vaguely recognized as the band's guitarist, ripped the stage door off its hinges and flung it into the audience. The door had been a rock thrown into still water. The room's occupants rose simultaneously, throwing themselves out of their seats, sending chairs and dishes to the floor.

Now, the room was in an uproar as everyone tried to shove passed everyone else to get away from the stage area and out the door into the street. Kagome was no exception. Her tiny body was being crushed by the masses bearing down on her.

Kagome's heart raced as she attempted to push her way through the crowd. She had lost Hojo within the confusion and had given up any hope of finding her old friend within the faceless crowed. She was only one speck amongst thousands in a dammed river. Unable to push her way forward, Kagome fell back until she was thrust to the ground not far from where she had started.

Behind her, a man screamed as flesh hit flesh. She could recognize the voice of one of the Haven employees and she turned just in time to see a table being hurled at her. Something in the back of her mind told her to run or jump out of the way—something. It didn't matter though, her feet were weighted to the floor, holding her down. The miko could only watch as the table flew toward her with wide eyes.

She could see the headlines now "_Famed Author Meets Death by Flying Table._" This after an adolescence spent running through the demon-infested Feudal Era—ironic.

Her eyes closed, waiting for the inevitable impact, the feeling of wood crushing bone…

Something hit her from the side, throwing her off her feet. Her body fell in a heap onto the maple floors. For a moment she was stunned. She could feel a bruise forming on her back and her right elbow hurt painfully, but she was still breathing. Warmth seeped through her, covering her torso—someone was on top of her, pressed chest to chest. She could feel a heartbeat, slow and steady against her racing pulse. Hand pressed firmly into her shoulders. There was a warm breath on her cheek. Kagome shuttered. The commotion fell away into the background.

She slowly opened her eyes and peered through pale strands, into resin colored eyes, glimmering like polished Maplewood—

_--she ran her hands through silver hair to move the offending strands from his eyes, delighting in the texture that was softer than lamb's wool. It was long enough to cover them both, pooling around them. The man above her offered a mischievous grin and reached down to cover her lips with his own, hungrily drinking what she so willingly offered. Kagome gave in to his ministrations, sighing into his mouth as his tongue proceeded to taste every inch of her mouth, each ridge and crevice. Without breaking contact, one of his hands snaked between their bodies, reaching for the hem of her shirt. _

_Startled, Kagome gasped and grabbed the wandering appendage. "Inuyasha, no." Her breathing came in hard gasps and despite the heat ravaging her body, she shivered. The man above her frowned, but one look at the shadows lingering in her face had him sighing in defeat. The hand that had reached for her shirt snaked around her waist instead, pulling her close before flipping them around so that Kagome's body was draped over his, her head pillowed securely on his arm. _

_Neither said anything and Kagome was content to just stare into the moonlit night through the filter of the trees. Stars wandered the sky, glimmering lights dotting a landscape of eternal void. _

"_There are so many tonight," she said softly, breaking the silence._

_Inuyasha didn't answer for a moment, but finally, she felt a strong hand grasp hers. "There are thousands because there are thousands of fates—that's what my mother told me anyway. She told me I had to find my own."_

_Kagome sensed the hesitation in his voice. Inuyasha didn't speak of his mother very often. The human mother who bore him was a sore subject for the hanyou. It was best not to mention the former consort of the Lord of the Western Lands. _

_Instead, she propped herself up on one elbow to stare down at him, his hair fanned out beneath him, eyes focused on the canopy, shades of light and darkness playing against the plains of his features. It made him look stern, older than he was in the daylight. Every year showed on his face for her eyes alone—he had never been more beautiful. "And what do they say tonight, Inuyasha." She said it into his ear, her breath startling the tiny hairs from their place. She felt him jump beneath her at the tingling sensation. _

_The hanyou turned his attention to the woman gazing down at him. The hand that held hers squeezed tighter. "That we will win tomorrow. After tonight, Naraku will be dead. Forever." _

"_Good."_

"_Are you scared?"_

_Kagome shook her head and leaned back against him, seeking his warmth. His arm closed tightly around her, holding her close. She could remain there forever—would, once the danger was in the past. "I can't be scared. Not when everyone is counting on me. Not with you counting on me…" _

A loud snap sent her out of her reverie as another piece of furniture shattered to toothpicks next to her. Suddenly she was pulled to her feet, claws digging into bared skin. "Sesshoumaru," she said, slightly surprised.

The demon hulled her away, forcing her towards the wall. "Move miko. We don't have all afternoon." The man who threw the chair was moving toward them again. Everything in his path was cleared away, torn to shreds with his bare hands. He came barreling toward them like a locomotive, ready to crush them. Behind her, she could feel Sesshoumaru reaching for his sword. Unconsciously, Kagome seized her miko power, grasping at invisible strands of her own life force, feeling the slight tug on her soul as it responded to her request.

She was just about to fling a blast of energy in their assailant's face when a piercing sound crashed through the din. It raced through the air like elfshot through glass, shattering the clamor into a million pieces. Kagome could not think of any other way to describe the note. It was like livewire, a distinct minor she could feel thrust into her heart. At first, she thought the touch was nothing more than her own overactive imagination, but she felt Sesshoumaru jump slightly behind her. His chest shook in a low growl, but it remained beneath the chorded notes ringing from what was unmistakably a shamisen.

Standing on the stage, Kagome caught sight of the shamisen player from earlier. She stood as calmly on stage now as she had stood during the performance before an appreciative crowd. Her fingers, gently strummed the instrument. Though the musician was the same, the song was completely different from what she had heard during the performance. Although she played alone, the power in the siren song had not dimmed; if anything, it had increased. Like the other piece, the tune resonating from the instrument was Celtic, but instead of elegant and rousing majors, this tune was low and mournful, a lament that quivered as it was released from its restrains. Each note shivered in the air before finally dying, rising and then falling in one long drawn breath. As one died, another was born from its ashes, holding onto its predecessor for a moment longer, enough to catch a final piece of precious sound before releasing. Every chord tore away a tear from Kagome's eyes. Her miko powers hummed, holding a resonance with the powerful sound. She felt the woman's soul in her music, tangible to her senses.

Her assailant was not unaffected by the music. With the first note, his back arched, as if he were suddenly struck by the most horrible agony imaginable. His eyes rolled back in his head as his limbs went stiff. The body fell to the floor, squirming like a fish on a hook. His mouth flew open, but instead of a scream, black mist burst through the open orifice.

Kagome reeled when the substance was drawn from the body, a liquid smoke that spiraled upward toward the ceiling, releasing a banshee cry as it floated. The miko had to resist the urge to cover her ears. Sesshoumaru tightened his grip.

"It looks like he was possessed," Kagome said softly. She didn't even want to think of the possibility.

The smoke disappeared from view and the man's body relaxed, letting out one final shudder before becoming still. The music continued for a heartbeat more, a shroud settling over what was once a living being, now clearly departed from this world.

The musician lowered her shamisen and met Kagome's eyes. Silence greeted the end to her song and it was with surprise that the miko realized that the room was now completely empty.

With a grace that Kagome swore was impossible to achieve, the woman dropped to the floor, tucking the instrument under her arm. She stopped just short of Kagome. "Miss Higurashi." She caught site of Sesshoumaru, but her eyes only widened a fraction. She said nothing. Obviously, a demon standing in feudal clothing did not warrant an explanation—at the moment.

Kagome stepped forward with more confidence than she felt. The woman had just saved them, but… "I'm not sure if I should be thanking you or not. I have never seen anything like that."

"I understand." She threw a glance around what was left of Haven's main room. "I wish I had the time to explain everything here and now, but unfortunately, I'm afraid explanations must wait. For now, my name will have to suffice—I am called Nightingale. I realize that this is sudden and you have no reason to trust me, but could we possibly talk later? I have a feeling that we could both benefit from shared information."

Kagome swallowed her shock. The rational side of her tried to remind her that she knew nothing about this woman, but another part was demanding that she trust her. She had just saved them afterall. "Where?" she asked finally.

"Wherever you wish. Someplace safe, where no one will hear us."

Before Kagome could reply, another voice interrupted them from the doorway. "How about your apartment Miss Higurashi, or if not there, perhaps the police station would suffice." Officer Soshiro Ichimura moved toward them, maneuvering easily through the wreckage. "I think this is going to be a very interesting conversation indeed." His young face hardened, eyes flickering between the two women. "I want answers, and I want them soon. I'm tired of tracing cold trails, and I get the feeling I can get them from you."

It was too much too fast. First the dig sight, then Sesshoumaru, then the attack, and now an officer was standing in front of her demanding answers to something he would likely never understand. Kagome suddenly felt more weary than she had in years. All she wanted now was to go back to her apartment, go to sleep and forget everything. She knew she couldn't, however, she never could. "My apartment would be fine. Tomorrow morning. I take it that you know where it is Officer Ichimura?"

"Of course."

"Please give Nightingale," she paused at the woman's strange name, "the information as well." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she made her way to the exit, barely noting the demon following behind her. He would be there tomorrow though, that much she knew for certain. It would be a day of answers all around.

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AN: Okay, that took awhile. The majority of the background will be dished out in the next chapter including more details about Nightingale, information about the whereabouts of demons in 21 century Tokyo, and what exactly happened in Sesshoumaru's past before his appearance in the modern world.

Also, thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I am so happy that people like this story. Your appreciation for my work is what keeps me writing. I cannot thank you all enough. By all means, keep sending them my way.

For those who are curious, the "soundtrack" for this chapter was:

"Swing Shift" – The Ahn Trio (Haven)

"The Fairy Queen" – Traditional Irish Melody (Nightingale's first song)

"Forest Hymn" (Kagome and Inuyasha)

"Aileen's Lament" (Nightingale's second song)

Please remember to review, and I am _still_ looking for a beta. Having one would help make updates much faster.


	7. Repetition

Chickahominy Creek

Chapter 6: Repetition

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha

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Kenichi Matsuka scowled at the scene at his feet, attempting to keep a straight face despite the overwhelming tightening of his belly. Matsuka had been manager of the West Tokyo Water Treatment facility for eight years and he had never been faced with a situation like this. His employees were gathered behind him, nervously whispering amongst themselves. One man leaned forward to get a better look, but Matsuka held him back with a stiff arm.

"No one is getting any closer than this," he said, just loud enough for the men to hear. "I don't want anyone to step beyond this railing, is that understood?"

There was a murmur of agreement behind him. One of the men asked if he should contact the police and Matsuka nodded, motioning the man away. When there was room enough, he stepped under the guard rail and leaned over the edge of the number six filter bed. The motors, usually moving steadily with a loud whirring sound were silent. Only a few mummers, dripping water, and the muffled shuffling of feet echoed over the plant.

The manager leaned down, belly flat against the concrete to get a better look at the water, but not close enough to touch the contaminated liquid. It was dark red, darker than the crimson of his working uniform. The liquid practically shivered. It was thicker than the water that should have been running through the long pipes, thick enough that it was almost gelatin in viscosity. The air left a coppery tang in his mouth, as if he had just bit his own tongue.

No, he wouldn't be the one to touch it.

Matsuka pushed away and stood up on unsteady feet. He had only been near it for five minutes or so, but already he felt light-headed. With careful hands, he readjusted a pair of thin wire glasses, pushing them up higher on his nose.

"No one touches anything until the police get here, absolutely no one."

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Kagome gave Sesshoumaru the most intimidating glare she could possibly manage—in her pink bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. "Just eat it, you stubborn excuse for a demon."

Sesshoumaru shoved the plate away, leaving the chopsticks at his side untouched. "And once again miko, I do not eat your food." The demon in question folded his arms and leaned into his chair, back straight with shoulders squared.

She didn't have time for this. Any minute now, two relatively unwelcome guests were about to knock on her door, and she was still in fuzzy slippers and pajamas. She hadn't even had a chance to brush her hair yet and her "guest" was putting up a fight.

Trying to keep herself calm, she thrust the plate back across the table. "Would that be mine specifically, or human food in general?" Sesshoumaru shrugged and something told Kagome that her answer was both. "Inuyasha ate it and didn't die," she muttered sullenly. He was just doing it to spite her.

The demon lord's eyes narrowed. "My brother was not a full demon. He lowered himself by eating such sop." Clawed fingers pinched a piece of egg off the plate. Sesshoumaru examined it for a second before flicking it toward Kagome where it landed in the hem of her robe. "Treat me with more respect miko. The only reason you're still breathing is because I'm not entirely sure what to do with you yet."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, Sesshoumaru-_sama_," Kagome said, accenting the honorific, "you aren't exactly in control here to begin with. You can't do anything to me!"

Kagome immediately bit her tongue. Why had she said that? Now was not the time to be arguing with Sesshoumaru. If he didn't want to eat then he could either fend for himself or starve. As a guest in her home, she had though cooking for him was showing common courtesy. She waited for his retort, sure that he would not take her insult.

However, she might as well have shouted at a mountain, because Sesshoumaru didn't remark on her outburst at all. Instead, he pushed the plate away and stood up, moving toward the coffee table where he had set down one of the books from her office earlier. He settled himself neatly amongst the cushions and retrieved the text, placing it on his lap before thumbing through to the bookmarked page.

"I suggest you get dressed miko," he said, not bothering to glance up. "Your guests are due in a couple of hours and I do not want to be kept waiting for your response. I have questions of my own."

He carefully turned over another page, handling her book as if he might break it, but he didn't say another word. Kagome thought about telling him that he could ask whatever he wished before her "guests" arrived, but thought better of it. Sesshoumaru would not likely respond and it would probably be better to reveal all the details at once than have to repeat things, which would undoubtedly be the case.

Kagome removed his plate from the table, shoveling a few swallows of egg herself before throwing the rest away and washing the plate. Due to the silence, she could have been alone in the apartment, but as she cleaned up after breakfast, she could feel Sesshoumaru in the area behind her. He made absolutely no sound and even the book he held did not rustle when his fingers turned the leaves. The lord of the western lands was a powerful demon, and although her miko powers were tingling just beneath the surface, they were not bursting and aching to escape her as they normally would in such a presence.

_Which means they don't perceive of him as a threat? _

An eerie possibility.

Kagome chose to ignore Sesshoumaru for the time being and instead moved toward her room, closing the door and locking it further behind her. The last thing she needed was a full grown demon poking his head through the door at an unwanted time. Not that Sesshoumaru would so much as consider walking into her room like that—he wasn't Miroku—but she felt more comfortable with the door locked.

Her robe and underwear shed, Kagome flicked on the light in the bathroom and began running the hot water for her shower. When the temperature was to her liking, she ducked beneath the faucet and let the liquid cover her body. The liquid provided comfortable warmth. Perhaps if she stayed under long enough, it would wash everything away—memories, recent events, her emerging power. Everything was a mess. She thought she was over drastic changes in her life, through with demons, mystical powers, things trying to kill her.

It was harder this time. As a girl, she had Inuyasha and her friends. She had companions who cared about her, people she would have given her life for in a heartbeat. Last time she knew what was happening. She had a goal, she had a purpose in the scheme of things, clearly defined—this time she had no clue. She had invited two perfect strangers into her home to discuss a past she had not told to her closest friends, there was a demon who would just as soon help her as slit her throat in her living room, and somehow, she still had to work on her next book in order to pay for the roof over her head.

She felt her throat catch, but her eyes remained dry, choking on tears that wouldn't come. Shivers raced over her skin and she leaned sideways to allow the tiles to take her weight. Somehow, with one hand on the soap rack, she managed to retain her balance on shaky legs. Everything in her wanted to scream and curse the world, beat her fists against the tile until either the wall split or her hands bled from the impact. She wanted to shove so much of her power down "Mr. High and Mighty Demon Bastard's" throat that he turned into a pile of ash at her feet—ashes she would proceed to scatter over a dumpster. However, cries were no easier than tears. Her emotions were stuck in a soundproof chamber hidden in her mind. Inside she was screaming her lungs raw, but no one on the outside could hear. It was stuck, a cold for the heart…

_Kagome clung to the rock, squeezing the jagged edges tightly enough to draw blood. It was rare that the group could take a rest from shard hunting and after finding the small spring, Kagome had been relieved—to finally be clean. The water should have relaxed her, she should be able to wash away problems along with the grime and dirt from the road—but it didn't work that way. Now she was clinging to the shore, unable to forget anything. She didn't have time to cry. Shouldn't cry. Not until Naraku was gone, when Miroku was free from his curse and Sango's family avenged. Not until she could put a completed jewel into Inuyasha's hands and tell him it was over, that Kikyou had not died in vain no matter how much those words would wound her heart. _

_It wasn't as if the water wasn't trying. Tiny waves lapped at her skin like a mother's hands, soothing and patient. But there was no water inside to cleanse her. _

"_Kagome?"_

_Kagome started at the voice, turning quickly to face the source. He stood on the opposite bank, his fire-rat kimono making him immediately recognizable in the dim light. From where she stood, his face looked creased with concern, eyes a few shades darker than their normal hew in the dim light but glowing softly, like light distilled through a bottle of aged wine. Those eyes were focused on her, watching her every movement. _

_She wasn't exactly surprised to know he was there. Both she and Sango had discovered long ago that Inuyasha was never far away when they chose to move away from the camp to bath. After the initial anger had subsided, both women had realized that the hanyou had only their safety in mind and neither had ever noticed eyes wandering toward where they did not belong. More often than not, Inuyasha stayed in a nearby tree, up high enough that he could see nothing but still hear any nearby threats before they became a problem. Typically, he never left harbor of the branches—until now. _

_Part of her wanted to scream and take out all of her frustration on him, but her mouth wouldn't work. Words could not seem to make it passed her lips. _

_Inuyasha_ _stood on the bank for another moment, but seeing that she made no move toward him nor any objection to his presence, he began to slowly remove the fire-rat kimono, giving her amble time to stop him if she wanted. Kagome gave him no such signal. Once his kimono was hung safely on a nearby branch, Inuyasha moved toward the water, making his way carefully toward the girl clinging to the rock. _

_Kagome watched him approach with wary eyes. Despite his careful movements, he moved through the water with purpose, not stopping until he was right in front of her. Thousands of thoughts flashed through Kagome's mind as he came closer. Every nerve in her mind was telling her mouth to move, to say the words that would make him go away. However, something must have misfired because her lips still wouldn't move. Her body shook, but remained rooted to the rocks like a piece of moss, permanent fixture. All she could do was watch with large eyes as Inuyasha moved toward her until he was right in front of her. _

_A clawed hand reached up and brushed away a lock of dark wet hair. It traced along her forehead, behind her ear, her jaw line. It made its way to her shoulder and then hooked behind her back, drawing her closer to his warmed body until they were standing hip to hip. Another hand found its way under her arm to rest on the small of her back, drawing tiny circles that sent the first tear sliding down her cheek. It wasn't a possessive grip, just a comforting one, a shelter. Her ear collided with his chest as his head came to rest on her hair. She could hear his heart beating, solid and steady—hers was ramming hard against her rib cage, like a tiny bird trying to escape. _

"_Just cry, Kagome." The words, slightly muffled by her hair, tripped a switch that released the dam. She let one sob escape and before she knew it, her body was heaving with them as tears fell one after another to join the water that pooled around her. It was another drop in a sea of troubles. _

_She wasn't sure how long they stood there, nor could she have said when Inuyasha had picked her and carried her out of the spring. All she knew was eventually she fell asleep, and that when she awoke, she was wrapped in Inuyasha's kimono and still in his arms, cradled in his lap in the branches of a tree. He was awake when she opened her eyes, watching her protectively and still tracing tiny circles along her back…_

Kagome clamped down on her emotions. Inuyasha was not here to cling to anymore, no matter how much she wished him to be. She began to reach for the shampoo when the water suddenly stopped. Kagome stepped back and stared at the showerhead. It sounded like the water couldn't get through. Once, when Souta had been a kid, he had stuffed play-dough into the faucet in the kitchen. When her mother had gone to turn it one, the blocked faucet had sounded like it was choking. It was the same sound, like something was dying. She reached forward to turn off the water when something stung her hand.

She couldn't hold back a scream. It felt like acid eating in to her skin, digging until it got to the bone. She clutched her hand to her chest, wincing reflexively at the pain until she forced her eyes to open. A dark red substance with the consistency of Jell-O was pushing its way through the showerhead and began falling into a clump on the bottom of her shower. There was a cracking sound and with horror, Kagome realized that the showerhead was beginning to crack.

Before she could fully register the thought, it exploded. Red globs spilled to the floor and before Kagome's eyes started to mold into a humanoid figure. A head appeared first, faceless with hollows for eyes, a grinning skull that seemed to laugh at her plight. Then, there came a pair shoulders, arms and a torso.

Kagome didn't want to wait to find out what emerged from the pile on her shower floor. She threw herself to the side and hurled the shower door open, struggling across the bathroom's slippery floor in an effort to make it to her bedroom. Her feet slid on the rug next to the sink. Her body hit the ground and breath escaped her lungs in a whoosh of air. Flailing arms tried to locate the sink to regain her footing, but before she could pull herself up, pain ripped through her ankle. It was one of the worst things she had ever felt. Instinct caused her to look down and she released all her pent-up terror into one scream. A molten hand had her ankle and fire shot up her captured limb at every point of contact. Then, to her horror, the red material moved _through_ her skin, slipping underneath like her skin was nothing more than fine linen. She felt it ripple, moving through like some kind of parasite.

Some part of her mind told her not to panic, but it didn't slow the wild palpitations of her heart as she clawed at the carpet in an attempt to get away. Her muscles felt weaker with each thrust, but despite her struggle, she couldn't get the creature to release her foot. She kicked and bucked, but to no avail.

Finally, she put everything she had left in to one desperate cry: "Sesshoumaru, Sesshoumaru!"

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Sesshoumaru leafed through what the miko called a textbook. Carefully studying each page, paying close attention to every line. It was difficult at first. The language was not what he was used to, it was—modern. Not that it surprised him. After several hundred years, it was to be expected. He still had trouble occasionally when the miko spoke to him. The inflections, vocabulary, and accent were all unfamiliar to him. And it was rude, this new language. It lacked the courtesy and honor that the old one had shown. _Product of a new age indeed,_ he thought.

Despite his dislike for the creatures, however, he had to admire some of the advances they had made. Before his arrival, he would have never thought half of the things he saw in the overly large village were possible. Metal palaces and creatures that breathed fire and smoke like a dragon but were not living—_no, buildings and cars_, he corrected himself. The advances in warfare were nothing short of miraculous, though it made him uneasy, placing the means of vast destruction in the hands of such creatures. Then there were the advances in medicine and agriculture. The map of the world he had found in one book shocked him to the core. There was so much he wanted to know, so much he needed to learn. It filled him with an unexpected excitement. He wanted to read everything he could, but he had decided to start with the book in his lap, a topic the miko had plenty of books on—history.

The text was a heavy one, and only one part of a large volume. He had it open on his lap, leaning over as if he would miss something. He was just about to turn the page when a strange scent made him look up. There had been a lot of unpleasant smells in town, but this was worse than anything he had encountered in the maze of metal. He recognized the coppery smell of blood, but mixed in was something else, something like rotten eggs.

He carefully closed the book and tried to follow the smell. It didn't take long to rule out the kitchen behind him and there was no way it was coming from outside. He moved toward the room the miko had stayed in the night before, but the stench weakened as he moved toward that door. That only left one possibility, and he was hesitant to investigate the matter. The stench undoubtedly came from the bedroom or the washroom beyond, but with the miko in there, he was hesitant to enter.

_Besides, other than as a guide, she is of no concern. _

Just as the thought escaped his mind, he heard a scream from the other side of the door and a muffled crash. Old battle instincts had Tokajin out of its scabbard in less than a heartbeat, held in front of him in a defensive stance. All weight shifted to his back foot out of habit, ready to move the second he was needed. His hand reached for the doorknob and twisted it, only to find it locked firmly in place.

"Sesshoumaru, Sesshoumaru!"

He decided to sacrifice the door and in the space of a breath, the barrier was nothing more than splinters as wood imploded into the bedroom to allow the demon lord passage. Fury fueled his blood—nothing would harm that miko until he received the answers he needed, not without taking the matter up with him first. He was glad to have use of his arm again as the claws extended on the hand that did not hold a sword. The door to the washroom was in sight and this time he didn't bother to check whether or not it was locked. He simply tore it to shreds.

The stench that greeted him had him covering his nose with his free hand. It was far stronger inside than out. He could barely see the floor and he backed up slightly as the red substance slumped toward him, creeping over the tiles. Suddenly a tendril shot out, aiming for his sword arm.

Sesshoumaru swung Tokajin out in front of him, gritting his teeth from the impact. Throwing off his attacker, he wasted no time. A quick dive to the left sent him under another tendril. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the miko on the ground, clawing at the floor and hissing in pain. Tokajin cut through the slime with ease and with the miko released, he scooped her up and made a break for the door. The washroom was not a place he wanted to fight in. There was not enough room to effectively use a sword.

His exit took another chunk out of her wall, but he did not think the miko was in any position to care. He tossed her onto the bed and turned just in time to meet another thrust from his assailant. Demon speed got him out of harms way and he vaulted off the wall, blade forward for a counter strike. The familiar blood rush of battle drove him as he tore through another section, a clean slice that brought him back in front of the bed.

"What the hell is that thing?" The miko had regained enough sense to dive to the other side, taking safety behind the large piece of furniture. That was good. She would only be in the way.

Sesshoumaru growled. "Don't distract me, miko. Stay down and don't move. If it comes after you, I'm letting it have its meal. I cannot be bothered with your complaints."

"What do you mean, 'cannot be bothered'? Listen you demonic bastard, you know something and I want to know what. Tell me or…"

"Quiet! Now is not the time!"

He thought she might have said something else, but the severed limb thrashed and buckled and then, shockingly, attached itself to the floor. Sesshoumaru reeled backwards and pushed the miko's head down behind the bed, wide-eyed, as he was attacked again. He felt the appendage pass he shoulder and hissed in pain as he came down hard on his side. He rolled to avoid another attack from a different direction, clutching his shoulder as he came up.

A glance at his sleeve showed that the red substance had sliced through the clothing, leaving a few traces of red and scorch behind. Though the limb had missed its target, a few remaining beads of the substance had fallen onto his skin, burning enough that it caused discomfort for their victim.

_Venom! It uses venom! _

That did not bode well. His own poisons would neutralize some of it, but a full strike would put him out of commission. And it could regenerate. He could hack at it all day and the situation would only get worse—he welcomed the challenge. Sesshoumaru sheathed his sword and extended both sets of claws. The weapon was useless, but there were always other options.

Another swing from the creature had him moving again, but as he evaded, he allowed his blood to mix with the poison present in his body, feeling as it moved towards his fingertips. He grinned. Now he would get to see who had the strong poison. When he was sure there was enough, he took a swipe and smiled in satisfaction when it reeled back. Green acid from his claws tore through the red, sizzling as it made contact and devouring the limb. It didn't get up.

Suddenly, an explosion from the doorway caught the demon's attention. His eyes narrowed as he caught the two from yesterday. The black-haired man held some kind of weapon in his hand, a piece of metal that he had trained on the red opponent. It was smoking. Sesshoumaru assumed that it was the weapon that had made the explosion.

"Well, this is interesting." The man moved further into the woman, allowing the long-haired woman from yesterday through. His eyes narrowed, following the line of his weapon as if he were searching for something. "Not precisely the welcome I expected, but interesting."

Sesshoumaru growled low in his throat. He didn't want to have to deal with more humans and they entered here at their own risk.

"If you want to live, I suggest you leave."

The man ignored him, keeping his eyes on his target. "You'll get nowhere just slashing at it. Its spirit is located at the core. You need to attack that." He flicked his weapon to the shattered washroom door. "It's in there if you're interested."

At the core? Yes that would make sense, but how… "Human—"Another tentacle dove toward him and Sesshoumaru jumped backwards, taking it out with his right hand at the same time.

"Would you two stop?" The woman, Nightingale, had moved towards the center of the room, thrusting the shamisen she played the day before tucked in her arms. "We have to drive this thing back. I'll get it back into the other room. You two aim for the core!"

Sesshoumaru was about to argue when he felt something around her drop. It was like the air around her visibly shimmered and though there were no windows in the room, there was a light breeze lifting up the ends of his hair. It was impossible, but he could also pick up music, a gentle harmonic chord that grew slowly and swallowed the room. He blinked as a gust flew into his face.

Despite himself, his eyes widened a fraction at what he saw. Brown wings with thin bands of black adorned her back, feather under feather gently folded and flattened. Her scent had changed, and to he shock, he found it was now demonic, not the human he had been almost certain of before. Although he could not see her hands from his vantage point, he knew that the fingers cupping the neck of her instrument had talons. There were also a few feathers in her hair, shots of mocha woven into loose strands of ink. He wouldn't be surprised if there were a few feathered shapes etched into her skin around the eyes as well.

_A bird demon._ _So, there are still demons in this world after all. But how did she manage to hide it? Why couldn't I pick up her scent?_

Sesshoumaru had no time for further questions as song suddenly burst from Nightingale's shamisen. The notes flew like a rain of daggers wrapped in a tune the demon lord did not recognize. Is was fast and driving, the tempo running forward to the point where it was almost out of control. He didn't have time to reign in his shock as their opponent staggered back. Seeing his chance, he dove forward, claws at full extension. More explosions resonated behind him and he was aware of some kind of projectile whizzing past his cheek. As soon as he hit the creature, he began tearing at it, using up all his energy to push it back.

The three managed to force the ooze back into the confines of the washroom, but no matter how many times they flew at, it kept coming back. Sesshoumaru panted, but did not relent. He could feel the exertion in his muscles as every fiber complained. Although he was not ready to admit it, he was reaching his limits.

There was a click behind him and he heard Soshiro cursing. "I'm out of rounds. This isn't working!"

"Just keep going. There aren't any more options." The woman also sound fatigued, though her song had not slowed.

Suddenly, "Sesshoumaru, get out of the way!" He stole a glance behind him and saw the miko in the doorway. She had replaced her robe and was now glowing a gentle pink, hair beginning to levitate with the summoning of power. Knowing she would release it whether he wanted her to or not, and having no wish to be purified, Sesshoumaru jumped out of the way just as a rush of pure energy exploded in the washroom.

There was a blast of pink light and Sesshoumaru shielded his eyes. When he was certain it was safe to open them, there was nothing left of the abomination except the shattered remains of the door, broken glass, and strewn remains of furniture. The miko moved up beside him to survey the damage, using the sink for support. "Great, just great," he heard her mutter.

Their two guests also made their way to the bathroom, the man letting out a low whistle as he stared at the remains of the miko's washroom. "This could take awhile to clean up. I hope there's a really good explanation for this. I can't wait to hear it." Behind him, the woman nodded and retreated to the living room. Sesshoumaru followed her a moment later. Yes, it would indeed be an interesting explanation.

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The air in the living room was thick as the four gathered around the living room table. The miko and the bird demon took both chairs. The black cat that had greeted him yesterday morning was seated comfortably next to the miko, tail curled around its body comfortably. One of the miko's hands absently stroked its fur. The female demon had reverted back to her human form, her instrument resting at her feet. It did nothing for the tension. The male human preferred to remain standing and was currently leaning with his long back against the kitchen counter, legs stretched out in front of him. His outward appearance was relaxed, but Sesshoumaru could see his eyes darting between the three other people present. The demon lord also preferred to remain standing. He had taken a space against the back wall where he had a good view of every occupant.

The silence was thick. They would get nothing done if no one spoke. Sesshoumaru fixed his gaze on the bird demon and her dark eyes met his without fear. "There are still demons." The statement hovered over the stillness and the woman to whom the question was addressed nodded simply.

"Yes, there are still demons alive in this world, but not many amongst the humans. Although it's probably obvious at this point, I will confirm that I am a bird demon. Nightingale is more than my stage name, it's the animal version of my demon form." The woman paused, frowning slightly in concentration. "But I think I'm starting at the end of the explanation, if what I have pieced together is correct. I would like to confirm something first before I begin handing out explanations."

She turned to Kagome. "If I am wrong, this is going to sound like an odd question, and I apologize. I realize that your name is Kagome Higurashi, but are you by any chance related to the Miko Kagome who defeated Naraku over five-hundred years ago. I know it is in your book, but I need to know if this is something that you conveniently guessed, ran across somewhere, or something associated with your family. Are you aware that what you have written is true?"

Sesshoumaru could see the miko squirming where she sat like a piece of meat dangled before the jaws of hungry wolves. Her hands, which rested on her lap, clenched and unclenched at intervals. He was sure that if she were to open her fists, he would see tiny crescent marks etched into her skin from the pressure of her nails. He was tempted to answer for her himself, but chose to remain silent. This was her answer, not his, and he only had basic information anyway. There was no point in offering second-hand information when the source was present.

The miko finally let out a shuddering breath, and leaned heavily against the back of her chair. "It's not something associated with my family, per say, although they do know about it. The story in my book looks like a piece of fiction to just about anyone. There are only two people who know the truth behind those pages. I realize that the story is not a work of fiction. I realize it because it is my story. The Miko Kagome was not part of the feudal age. She really was a girl from the twentieth-century. She fell down a well into the feudal era. When she fell through, she found a half-demon boy stuck to a tree." She paused for a moment. Sesshoumaru smelled salt in the air. The miko wasn't crying, but her eyes were moist. She rubbed them. "She found a half-demon boy, and set him free. She found companions and they set out on an impossible quest. I know of this quest because I was there. I am Miko Kagome."

The bird demon stared at her slack-jawed. She looked like she wanted to protest, and her gaze kept swiveling between the woman in front of her and the demon standing against the wall.

"She's not lying," Soshiro said softly, though judging by the scent around him, he too was hesitant to believe the miko's words.

"Her aura has not changed since she sat down. She's nervous, but she's not lying."

The miko looked at him, startled. "How—?"

"I can read your aura," was the simple reply. "I would know if you were lying."

Sesshoumaru wasn't surprised. The explanation made sense. It explained how he was able to find them so easily, and why he was not startled that there were two demons in front of him.

"I do not know your whole story Miss Higurashi because I haven't read your book myself, but I know enough to follow what has been said so far and I know that nothing you have said since we've entered this room is false." The miko gave him a small nod of thanks, some of the tension leaving her body.

With that confirmed, the demoness turned her attention to Sesshoumaru. Her eyes had taken on a glazed look, wide and shocked.

"If she is the Miko Kagome," she said slowly, "Then am I correct in assuming that I have the honor of addressing Sesshoumaru of the Western Lands?"

Sesshoumaru nodded, but left the explanation for his presence with the miko. This was another issue in which he did not have all the information.

The miko didn't hesitate this time, sure that what she said would be accepted. "I am sure that you are aware of the excavation currently underway near my family's shrine. The location would be near Inuyasha's Forest in the feudal age. An old friend of mine from high school is in charge of the investigation and invited me down to the site three days ago. I arrived just a couple of hours prior to the death of the two archaeologists. Hojo had called me saying he had found something that would interest me. When he called, I could not possibly think of a single thing that would attract me to the site, except maybe some nostalgia. However, after I arrived, I was presented with two swords that the team had unearthed—Tetsuaiga and Tenseiga. I have not used my miko abilities since leaving the feudal era, but the moment I touched the metal of those swords, my miko powers have been singing.

"After the deaths were discovered, I went home, planning to never think about the incident again. However, when I came back to my apartment, both swords were sitting on the living room table. I don't know why, or how, but I'm assuming that they were somehow attracted by my powers because when I touched the pommel of Tenseiga, it was like the entire world exploded. There was a blinding flash of light and before I could register anything there was a demon lord standing in my living room."

The miko was smiling slightly and Nightingale was chuckling from her position on the couch. "Poor you," said the demoness. "I can only imagine how he reacted."

"He wasn't very polite. He thought it was some kind of trick. I suppose he thinks differently now."

Sesshoumaru growled. "I would prefer that you spare such comments in my presence."

"You just don't want to admit that you were wrong."

Soshiro cleared his throat. "I'm sure this would make an interesting conversation, but if you two don't mind, I would like to know what Nightingale meant when she said the rest of the explanation. I'm assuming that you have received the prior information that you require."

Nightingale nodded in response. "Yes, more than I expected. You are right in saying that demons still walk these lands

Sesshoumaru-sama, but it would be wrong to say that we live here. Demons were able to exist in this realm until about three-hundred years ago. At that time, belief in demons slowly began to wane, and our numbers began to decrease. Around that time, the world was beginning to open up. Other lands were discovering our tiny island nation. However, as the world widened, so did our options. At that time, a member of the Sidhe came to our lands aboard a ship from Europe. He approached Lord Ashura, Demon Ruler of the South, and made a bargain between his people and the demon race. A few members of the Sidhe had broken off from their people after a war in their home country. In order to obtain shelter, they offered to create an Otherworld in Japan, a world connected to reality by roads that would allow demons their own realm away from the changes taking place. An agreement was made and the Sidhe used the natural energy present in Japan to shape a new world for us and the few humans that did not wish to follow the path the real world was taking by feeding power into areas where lay lines connected."

At the blank look shot at her by Soshiro, Nightingale sighed. "Lay lines are bands of energy that encircle the globe. Magic leaks drains off of them like rivers. If there is a lay line in the area, magic power can be doubled or even tripled. However, if lay lines cross, magic is magnified enormously. When the Sidhe built the roads, they formed the gates at these intersections because they offered stability. The lay lines typically feed off natural elements present in the area: fire, water, earth, air, and ever so often void. So, if you have a lay line that feeds predominately off water energy, magic involving water will have more influence and power."

Soshiro nodded and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Alright, a bit much, but it makes sense. So, this Otherworld is the same as ours except several hundred years behind?"

"It is slightly different," the demoness continued, "but overall, this Otherworld resembles the feudal era of Japan. Three of the four Houses of Lords are still in place—the North, South, and East. The Sidhe also assigned guardians, people to guard the roads to the Otherworld. In order to pass between this world and the next, one of the guardians has to let you through. There are still a few demons wandering the streets of modern Japan, some on business and others just because they enjoy being here. Some of the weaker level demons actually choose to live here as humans, taking to the modern world better than the old."

Sesshoumaru smirked. He knew that what the miko said had to be false. There was no way that mere humans could drive every demon out of Japan. It was impossible.

"So, if you're here, am I to take it that you're one of the 'weaker level demons'?" Soshiro asked from his corner. "From what I saw earlier, I would rethink that if I were you."

"It is true that I am not as strong as many of the demons in the Otherworld, but you are correct in saying I'm not precisely weak either. It just goes without saying that my primary abilities are normally of the non-combative variety." Nightingale pulled her shamisen closer to her and began strumming a few chords absently. "Let's just say that there are times when I prefer to the human world. It offers a freedom the demon realm does not."

"So, the thing we fought was something from the demon realm?" asked Yoshiro.

_No, it is not a demon, at least not fully._ The conversation continued as Nightingale supplied more information. No, what attacked them was not from this…Otherworld. He had not been sure when he sensed the presence at Haven, but the creature had the same scent it had carried five-hundred years ago, even through the stench that clung to it in the last battle. _But that creature was sealed. I helped seal it myself._ Apparently not tight enough. Then again, the seal had been broken once before; it wouldn't be a stretch to assume someone broke it again. At the moment, there wasn't much danger, but the creature was still gathering power. It was no where near what he had fought in the Inu Yasha forest before.

_The miko said that the swords were found near that area. I wonder if whoever found the swords also found the seal. If she loose…. _He shook his head. That was not a possibility he wanted to think about.

There was no other option, he would have to seal it again before it gained enough energy to carry out whatever plan its sick mind had concocted. Under normal circumstances, he could care less about what happened to the human world, but while he was in it, he did not want to be caught up in the creature's energy hunt. There was no doubt that she was taking the soul energy from her victims, hording it. It had taken a direct blow to the core of the energy to defeat the second creature. The second attack was stronger than the first by far, and the third would be—another unpleasant thought. The attack at Haven was done through a human host. The second vessel might have been human once, but she had been able to mold the flesh to use for her own purpose and imbue it with her power. Yes, he had not other option. He would have to seal it.

Of course, sealing the creature would require the Jewel of Four Souls and his only connection to the jewel was the miko. He nearly smirked at the irony—it seemed like he was playing right into fate's hands. If he was right, this would be the second time it would force him to cooperate with a miko. He hated to allow it control, but he would play for a little while, so long as it suited him.

Still, the energy issue bothered him. Why, was she stocking energy? Suddenly, another thought occurred to him. "Is there another way to get into this Otherworld?" he said interrupting the conversation.

There was hushed silence for a moment before Nightingale shook her head. "No, you have to have a guardian open the gate."

No, she wouldn't be able to get one of these guardians to open a gate for her. There had to be another way. "How about force?"

Nightingale pursed her lips in concentration. "I suppose if you overloaded one of the lay lines, it would be possible. But that would take a lot of power. More than anyone could possibly conjure."

_Not if they stole it. _Pieces were beginning to fall into place. He had no specifics, but he could see the vague outline of a plan. If everything was leading where he suspected, it was more than the human world in danger. If she crossed—fate had just added another weight to the issue.

"It is possible," Sesshoumaru said evenly. "I know what this is, and I think I know what is happening." Honestly, it was suddenly very amazing how repetitive all this sounded. Even his next words had been spoken before, though not by him. "Something that was once sealed has been let loose. Her name is Yulei…"

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AN: Sorry about the long wait. I hope this chapter is worth it and answered a few questions. The next will clear up even more.

Also, thank you so much for the reviews! I have never had so many reviews for so few chapters since I started writing. I love it, they inspire me!

In addition, I would like to extend thanks to Hellspixie18 for looking over these two chapters for me before I submitted them.


	8. Yulei

Chickahominy Creek

Of All Possible Worlds

Chapter 7: Yulei

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha

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"Yulei?" Nightingale had turned in her seat, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at the demon standing in the corner. Her lips were pursed in a puzzled frown. "The name sounds familiar. I could swear I've heard it before, but I can't recall where."

Sesshoumaru grunted and closer to the group, seating himself on the floor near the coffee table with his feet tucked underneath him. "Yulei was once a miko and one of the rulers of the Eastern Lands."

"Yes, I remember now. I can recall small details, but nothing specific about the woman," replied Nightingale. "She ruled long ago, before you if I recall correctly. Does this—apparition—somehow connect with her?"

"It has everything to do with her." The demon lord sighed. Although their visitors had arrived in the afternoon, the sun was already setting beyond the windowpane, casting shadows around the room. The miko apparently noticed as well, because she pushed the black cat off her lap and got up to turn on the kitchen and living room lights. Much to his disgruntlement, the cat decided that he would act as her next pillow. Tiny forepaws found a place on his thighs before the animal bounded into his lap, turning once before setting down with her eyes studying the rest of the room. Sesshoumaru pointedly ignored her.

The miko returned from the kitchen and the demon watched as she walked back to her place on the couch. She was favoring her left foot as she eased herself into her seat. Sesshoumaru frowned, noticing for the first time that the area has swollen to an angry mix of red and purple. _She must have been injured in the attack, but she didn't say anything. _He had also been hit by the creature's poison and he could testify that the pain was no small matter. However, his demon body had already recovered from the damage, leaving no marks on his skin. The marks on the miko's foot were severe, and she should have been screaming, which was what he had come to expect from all humans with the exception of his ward, Rin. That child had rarely complained about anything. Instead of crying, however, the miko tucked her injured foot underneath of her and placed a cushion over her legs to hide it from view. Sesshoumaru had to forcefully clamp down on an unexpected emotion that was threatening to override his former opinion of the miko—admiration.

"So, this Yulei was a miko?" The sound of her voice brought the demon lord out of his trance and he mentally shook himself, forcing his eyes to meet the miko's, which were trained firmly on his, a curious look woven into their depths.

The demon lord nodded in confirmation. "Yes. She was a miko and ruler of the Eastern Lands, one of the most powerful women in legend."

The miko seemed puzzled with her eyebrows furrowed and mouth set in a firm line. Sesshoumaru could almost see her mind working from his position on the floor. "I'm afraid I don't follow. If she was a shrine maiden, how could she possibly be ruler of the Eastern Lands? I didn't think it was possible to be both. And if she was both, why weren't the Eastern Lands ruled by miko's when I was there?"

Sesshoumaru shot her back a barbed grin. "I'm surprised you don't know this. Aren't you supposed to be studying myth and history?"

"Well it's not like humans have kept the greatest records on the demon lords of the four lands Sesshoumaru-_sama_. Perhaps you would care to enlighten the rest of us."

Sesshoumaru was about to reply when the bird demon cut him off. "Enough! We do not have all evening for this discussion. I also know very little about this history and Kagome is right, it is not documented very well."

"I know nothing at all," Soshiro interjected, "so as troublesome as it may be, it would be helpful to start from square one for those of us that are absolutely clueless. Go easy on me though, I'm still trying to absorb all this." The man was glaring daggers and Sesshoumaru knew that he was using his ability to read the auras of everyone in the room. He must have been getting tired because there was a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. Somehow, the human had managed to keep his power active for the duration of the conversation.

"Thank you Soshiro," Nightingale said. "How are you handling this by the way? I'm sure this is a bit more than you bargained for. I'll admit that I somewhat expected the problem falling along these lines, but I feel that I should have prepared you."

The man in question gave the bird demon a carefree grin. "No harm done. Like I said, I know no one in here is lying to me, as hard as that is to believe in itself, and I've dealt with enough odd cases that this has not completely blown me out of the water, though I have to admit, this tops the damn odd list." He blinked once, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head. Yes, the effort to hold up his power was definitely draining him. "No, the fun part is going to be coming up with a report for all this. Hell, I may skip the whole report thing entirely. I don't think I can come up with a logical explanation for this. Anyway, about this Yulei…"

Sesshoumaru cleared his throat. This would be a long explanation as he would have to cover everything. "Yulei's rule was well before mine, and yes, at the time miko's were in control of the Eastern Lands due to the war. At that time, war had broken out between the humans and the demons. Normally, demons were the dominant race on all counts, but humans had the advantage of numbers. Of the demon ruled kingdoms, the South was overwhelmed by their human occupants, the bird demons were forced to heavily wall their largest city and wait them out. The Western and Northern Lands allied themselves and beat the humans back with little problems. Most human armies left intact by the end of the first wave of battles retreated to the East, the only lands that were run entirely by humans. Sometime during the middle of the war, the combined armies of the North and West overran the East's main fortification, killing the royal family that was housed inside. With no other place to turn, the humans handed over leadership to the shrine maidens of Yumeki Village. The head maiden of the shrine at the time was a young miko called Tamoko, the ancestor for Yulei, who became ruler one-hundred and fifty years later."

"The maidens ruled for that long?" asked the miko, who didn't bother to hide the surprise in her voice.

"Yes, and they were extremely formidable. In fact, Yulei was the one who brought the war to a close, though it was by unexpected means. Her reign almost destroyed humans and demons alike."

"I don't understand."

"I'm not entirely sure either, since her history is so scattered, but I would be willing to gamble on the reason having something to do with Yulei becoming a dark miko," Nightingale replied.

"Correct." Sesshoumaru paused for a moment. The miko opened her mouth to say something, but he raised a hand to hold her off. There was more that needed to be said before questions. "Eight years after Naraku's defeat, a tsunami struck the Northern Lands, tearing up the coast. At first, it seemed fortunate that so many lives were spared, but there was something everyone missed. The storm had unearthed more than the land, it had unearthed a seal, shattered it right in half. The seal was located in a small costal village, a place no one had ever heard of with a name I cannot remember. However, soon after the storm, humans and demons alike began falling ill, mysteriously disappeared, or were the victims of malicious slaughter. It was a trail of bodies the likes I have never seen. Eventually, we managed to trace the trail to its first victim—a young girl from the village who had disappeared two days after the storm.

A month after the initial disaster, fires ravaged the Eastern Lands, stealing hundreds of lives. It was around that time that I saw my brother again for the first time since Naraku's defeat. Inuyasha came right up to the Western Palace and demanded my presence." Sesshoumaru smirked at the memory. It was one of the three times he had felt grudging respect for his half-sibling. He could still recall the image of his brother standing in his entrance hall, eyes narrowed but firm, Tetsuaiga in his hand, and several of his own palace guards lying at his feet, bloody but still alive. He had calmly bowed and asked Sesshoumaru to accompany him. The other two instances had been during the battle with Naraku and his final sacrifice before the re-sealing of Yulei—his brother's final battle.

"Inuyasha came to the palace to request my presence in the Eastern Lands," Sesshoumaru continued. "The miko Kikyou claimed that she had the answer to the problems that had been plaguing the four lands. When we arrived, Inuyasha and I met the miko in Inuyasha Forest along with Kouga of the wolf tribe and the three other members of the team that had initially set off after Naraku…"

_Sesshoumaru followed his brother into the clearing where a fire blazed strongly enough to illuminate the faces of those who stood in the vicinity, casting shadows just as efficiently as it kept them at bay. He was not surprised at the current group gathered within the light—it was similar to the one he had fought alongside eight years ago. _

_Leaning against a tree was the monk, Miroku, with the demon slayer in his arms tucked safely under his chin. His legs were stretched out in front of him, one hand casually twirling a black strand of hair that had fallen from the bindings in his lover's hair. Sango was curled up comfortably against him with her knees resting on his lap, murmuring something in his ear that Sesshoumaru couldn't catch despite his demon enhanced hearing. The monk nodded and pulled her closer. Both looked tired and if the deep circles under both sets of eyes were any indication, neither had slept in several days. _

_Near them was the young demon kitsune that had accompanied the group, though he most certainly could no longer be called a kit. Shippo was standing on the far side of the fire, standing against a tree. His face had lost its child-like roundness and had reformed into the sharp angles his species was so know for. Hair that had been barely long enough to be pulled back before was now held easily behind the nape of his neck, red strands falling over his shoulders. Upon moving closer, Sesshoumaru was also able to pick out a new scar that ran from his left cheek straight to the jaw-line. It further took away from his formerly innocent look. The demon fox was still thin, though almost as tall as the Western Lord himself. He did not look very strong, but the way that he was tossing around the knife in his hand hinted at agility and skill that more than made up for power— he would not be totally useless in a fight. Rumor had it that he had improved his demon capabilities as well. _

_As far as personality, Kouga hadn't changed at all. He was sitting nearest the fire, grumbling about something or other. It was likely that he would still pick a fight with little provocation and it was still impossible for the wolf demon to remain still for more than a few minutes as he constantly shifted. However, it was apparent that time had not been kind to his pack, especially with recent events. The wolf clan lived primarily off the land, and with the situation being what it was, hunting was scarce. Kouga looked thin and slightly haggard. His eyes had sunken a bit and there were lines on his youthful face that had not been there a few years ago. The fire cast deep hollows in his cheeks and accented the tiredness in eyes that were not quite as alert as they had once been. He looked older than his age. Pain had added a century to his face. _

_Kikyou looked—exactly as Sesshoumaru remembered. She was the closest to them welcoming her lover into the clearing with open arms. Whereas the years showed on everyone else in the group, the miko showed none of it; he wasn't sure that age could show on her face. The demon lord was not sure how to classify the miko, a woman once dead and brought back to life. Her hair was still a glossy black that equaled the darkness of the eyes that peered at him over Inuyasha's shoulder. She was still a tiny figure with a hint of unimaginable power just underneath the surface. The only difference he could detect was a smile that had not been there before, a welcoming heat that Sesshoumaru found himself surprisingly accepting. _

"_Thank you for coming Sesshoumaru," Kikyou said softly after pulling herself out of Inuyasha's arms. She bowed deeply. _

"_I know that the past months have not been any easier on you than they have been on us. I'm sure you have much to take care of in the Western Lands."_

_The Lord of the Western Lands nodded, offering the shrine maiden a very slight bow of recognition. "Everyone is gathered around the fire," Kikyou continued. "I wish to begin the explanation as soon as possible, but if you would prefer to rest a moment before we begin…"_

"_That will not be necessary," replied the demon. "I would like to know why I have been summoned."_

"_Of course. Please, make yourself comfortable." Kikyou led the way back to the fire, motioning for everyone else to gather close to the flames. When everyone was easily within hearing distance, the miko drew a chord out from around her neck, parting the collar of her robes slightly to reveal the Jewel of Four Souls. She looked out over the sea of faces briefly and then closed her eyes, cupping the jewel between her folded hands. Kikyou stood motionless for several moments, during which no one made a sound. Sesshoumaru thought that she seemed to be listening to something that no one else could hear. _

_Eventually, the demon's eyes were drawn to her hands as a pale light began to shine through. As if in a trance, the miko stepped forward and moved closer to the flames, holding her hands outward. When there was only a hairs-breath between her skin and the fire, she released her burden. A light brighter than the blaze of new dawn drowned the area in an inferno bright enough to force Sesshoumaru to shield his eyes. _

_When he felt confident enough to open them, he nearly jumped in shock. Staring back at the group through the flames was the face of a human woman he did not recognize. Her eyes were wide and gave him the impression of vast knowledge as they swept over every person gathered. The lips were full and gracious; ready to smile just as readily as frown. Her features were soft and noble with arched brows and a small nose. _

_Although he could not identify the woman, he heard several whispers of "Midoriko." The name he knew—the miko had summoned the guardian of the Jewel of Four Souls._

"_The troubles you have experienced these past days have been harsh, but I have come to warn all assembled that they will not improve unless she is killed." Midoriko's voice rang out through the flames and echoed through the clearing. Though it was only an image of the dead miko, Sesshoumaru still felt the demon blood within him shudder. The woman had been dead for generations, but any demon in the vicinity would still recognize the power that still shimmered within that voice. The same power that drew thousands of demons to seek their deaths by chasing after the jewel. _

"_The catalyst of these disasters lies with one woman. Something that was once sealed has been let loose. Her name is Yulei. It is true that most people are familiar with Yulei as the last miko ruler of the Eastern Lands and a dark miko. However, her power goes far beyond what you can imagine. Yulei is driven by vengeance against humans and demons alike. However, in order to get rid of her, you must understand her. You must hear her story to realize what she is after. _

_During that great war, Yulei inherited the throne of the Eastern Lands. She ruled well and proved to be a strong figure to her subjects. Under her, the Eastern Lands finally managed to regain some of the land lost by her predecessor. Feeling the strain of losses, the Northern Lands sent an assassin to kill the ruler in her bed. _

_The assassin, Yuuki of the Water Tribe, was a member of the royal family's extensive defense network and well trained, the best the north had to offer. He managed to sneak into the village and pass through the wards and into the miko's sleeping chambers. He was prepared to slit her throat, but before he could do commit himself, something stayed his hand—the face of the sleeping woman. Not only was Yulei the most powerful woman alive, but she was also the most beautiful. Thousands hailed her as the beautiful woman in the land. With her long, straight black hair, pale features, delicate limbs and haunting summer eyes, she was starlight given form, and for most men, just as distant. She was welcomed everywhere, because it was for her the sun shown, for her the wind blew. The meeting between Yuuki and Yulei may have come to nothing. Yuuki may have killed her where she lay or he may have let her go. However, before her killer could make a decision, Yulei opened her green eyes. Needless to say, it was love at first sight. _

_The two lovers met in secret for years as war raged around them. Their armies faced each other in battle, but at least once a week, Yuuki would find a way to the Eastern Lands and into Yulei's bed. Each night, the miko would wait for him by her window, hoping that he would come to her. Those were happy days for the couple and as their relationship moved on, battles between those two nations dwindled. Then, there was one week when Yuuki didn't come. A week turned to two, then three, then months. Finally, Yulei received words via one of her messengers that the assassin Yuuki of the Water Tribe had been murdered by his own people on Eastern Lands—hunted down and killed. _

_Without her lover, Yulei fell deeply into depression until it eventually turned destructive. Unforgiving of both races, she began her vengeance on anyone involved in the war. Slowly, the ruler of the Eastern Lands wasted away in her grief until she eventually died. Unfortunately, at this time, Yulei was also the guardian of the Jewel of Four Souls. The jewel turned dark in her hands, and it amplified her power tenfold. Her soul did not rest as she chose a host and murdered thousands. She gathered followers, people who wanted power, and wrecked havoc. Crops withered and died, plague ran rampant, and hundreds of wars broke out throughout the four lands. _

_Ironically, these dire circumstances were the only thing able to bond the four lands. Almost a year after Yulei's death, her younger sister, Mai, took the throne and summoned the rulers of the other lands to her in peace. A powerful miko in her own right, she suggested a method to seal her sister's power using the very jewel that she used to spread her misery. Individually, the rulers of the four lands are powerful and capable of immense magic as they are the conduits of energy for the lands they guard. However, together their power was immense. By combining the strength of all four lands and amplifying its energy using the jewel, it was possible to seal Yulei for what everyone thought was eternity at the cost of Mai's life. _

_In the battle against Yulei, the four lands worked as a united force for the first, and only, time in history and the funeral honoring Mai was attended by thousands. _

_Unfortunately, Yulei's seal has been released. You must find her host and once again bind her using the Jewel of Four Souls. This time, however, you will not have the full power of the four lands, but it is possible that the swords Tetsuaiga and Tenseiga in combination with the jewel's power may be enough. It is your best hope…_

"We found the host quickly enough, but the cost was heavy. The final battle was in the forest," said Sesshoumaru. "I watched Kouga fall, followed quickly by my brother, though not before critically wounding her. As they died, their souls were sucked away by Yulei, fueling her power. Rin, my ward, was dying in my arms before I set her down to seal Yulei with the help of Kikyou. Rin had died protecting me, taking an attack that should have cost me my life. I do not know what happened after that other than a green flash of light that was supposed to have been Yulei's final attack. I assume that both the miko and I died in order to give enough energy to the bindings. The last attack must have never hit, either that or it was too late to do her any good."

Sesshoumaru fell silent and no one made a sound. By this time, there was no light shining through the windows, but his companions probably didn't notice. Somewhere in the middle of the tale, Soshiro lost his searching look and was now staring wide-eyed at the demon lord, lips slightly parted. Nightingale had huddled into the corner of her chair with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her eyes had a sheen over them as they filled with unshed tears, but she said nothing. The miko only looked confused and he could feel the heat of her eyes on his face.

"I'm assuming that Yulei has already found a host and has been feeding off human energy, but if she wants more, she is going to need to take demon lives," Sesshoumaru said. He was still sitting calmly in his seat on the floor, although his hand was now rubbing absently over the fur of the cat in his lap. "It is also likely that she is looking for the Jewel of Four Souls, as it would greatly aid her in her endeavors." He turned his attention to the miko. "Would you know where it is in this world?"

The miko shook her head. "No. I'm sorry but I have no idea. The last time I saw it was when Kikyou was ripping it from my neck."

"Then I shall start looking."

"_We_ shall start looking," corrected Nightingale. Sesshoumaru fixed her with a harsh stare, but the bird demon simply glared right back. "I am as much concerned about this as you, and you know perfectly well that if Yulei manages to get into demon lands, everything is only going to get worse."

"Don't count me out." Soshiro moved from his place at the counter and came to stand at the table with everyone else. "Not only is it my job to protect everyone from the dead witch, but my ability to see auras will probably be useful. She's going after people with powerful auras and I may be able to identify targets before they become food."

"Are you sure?" Nightingale asked. "This doesn't have to be your battle."

"Positive."

Sesshoumaru wasn't thrilled about allowing the man to help. If anything, he would probably end up in the way. "I'm not going to be watching your back," he told him.

"I'm perfectly capable of watching my own," Soshiro replied.

Somehow, the demon lord doubted that. Against another human maybe, but against this—that would remain to be seen. "We will also need you miko. As far as I know, you're the only one able to sense the jewel."

The miko didn't say anything for a moment. He could tell by the look on her face that she didn't want to get into this, but finally, she too nodded in confirmation. "I suppose I don't have choice. Not only can I sense the jewel, but it also looks like I'm a target. She's either after my energy or my abilities. I guess I'd rather fight back than sit here calmly."

"Now that that's decided, I think our next should be to make our way back to the Otherworld," said Nightingale. "I get the sense that we do not have much time before Yulei manages to break through to that realm." Sesshoumaru nodded. At the rate she was going, it would possible before the next cycle of the moon. "We shouldn't wait. When Yulei breaks through, she'll have access to a huge well of energy. There's no telling what she'll do and we have to warn the demon lands."

Soshiro frowned and pinned Nightingale with a hard stare. "Are you saying that we should just leave this world defenseless?"

The bird demon reached for one of his hands, grasping it firmly. "I understand how that sounds, but she will not remain here for long anyway, and it's doubtful that we would be able to stop her before she took a life. At best, we could only deal with the consequences. It's likely that we won't be able to prevent her from taking demon lives either." She sounded regretful and for the first time that evening, a little afraid.

"Our only chance is finding the Jewel of Four Souls before she does and sealing her," Sesshoumaru confirmed. Soshiro bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes, but at last hung his head, still shaking slightly. "Then we find that jewel and get rid of her quickly."

"As soon as we can," Nightingale said softly.

"How are we supposed to get there," the miko asked. "Don't we need to find a gate?"

"We leave the same way I got in," Nightingale replied. "I know the identity of one guardian and although it may be difficult to convince him, we can try to see if he'll let us through." She looked out the window, obviously trying to gauge the time. "However, I think we've all had enough for one night. Why don't we make that trip tomorrow if it's alright with you two?" She glanced at Soshiro. "Perhaps Soshiro and I can meet you here at the same time?"

Surprisingly, the miko glanced at Sesshoumaru, her face asking if he would be ready at such a time. He was slightly surprised that she would even bother trying to consult him, but he allowed it to slide. "That is acceptable," replied the demon.

"Good." Nightingale released Soshiro's hand and began gathering up her instrument, rising from her seat. Soshiro waved and started towards the door. He held it open and turned back towards Nightingale, waiting for the bird demon.

"I'll meet you by the car Soshiro, there's one last thing I want to discuss with Sesshoumaru-sama. It won't take long." Soshiro grumbled something that sounded like "no problem," and moved away, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. The door swung back and closed loudly behind him. The miko's gaze altered between the two demons for a moment before she tossed her pillow aside and rose, moving in the direction of her office without a word.

Sesshoumaru also stood, pushing away the cat that had remained on his lap for the duration of the conversation. There was no way he would remain seated while another occupant of the room was standing.

"The gate that we are going through will take us to the Western Lands," Nightingale said when she was sure that they were alone. "I'm sure that you don't need me to tell you this, but you must make an appearance at the Western court. I just…you should be warned that many things have changed since then. I don't want to go into detail because there are things you should see for yourself in order to understand, but you need to know that they have waited a long time for your return."

_My return? _Sesshoumaru let the shock roll over him, feeling his breath hitch slightly at the though. How could they possibly have predicted his return? For that matter, how was it possible that there was a ruler of the Western Lands? He had fathered no children and even Inuyasha, the only other person who could have inherited the title of Lord of the Western Lands, died before he could produce offspring.

Nightingale smiled, having sensed his tension. "There is a regent who currently claims the title," she said softly, answering the unspoken question. "Although the people have been more than willing to officially give rule to the family, each one has remained adamant about retaining the title of regent only. They have waited for you Lord of the Western Lands."

Just when he thought the shock couldn't get any worse, it became a storm. His mind was running faster than the winds that crossed the skies. A regent? Which family could possibly claim the title? He could not think of a single person close to him that would be qualified. And not only qualified, but apparently capable of fathering a dynasty. No one in their right mind would have waited so long.

"I simply ask that you keep an open mind," Nightingale continued. "Look beyond your first impression. I think ultimately, you'll be very proud." The bird demon moved to follow her companion out the door. "Tomorrow Sesshoumaru-sama."

When the door closed behind her, Sesshoumaru fell back onto the chair, trying to take in everything at once. Even for him, it was a bit overwhelming. Although he didn't care for humans and he had never set foot in this new Otherworld, a large part of him did not want the terror he had lived through to happen again. He had been a strong and almost unforgiving leader, but even he condoned mass suffering. And if his own kind were still around… Would it be possible for him to leave them to their fate? If what Nightingale said was true and the Western Lands were waiting for his return, then were they not still his responsibility?

He leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, pale strands of hair falling around his face like a gossamer veil. Already the swirl of thoughts was causing a massive headache. Of course, he could always ignore the problem and allow both worlds to perish. He had already fought once and he was tired. Not battle weary, never that, but tired of the constant bombardment of problem after problem. Of being plucked out of his familiar surrounds and shoved into a place and time he never imagined possible.

Surprisingly, his thoughts led to the miko in the other room. Accepting everything meant working closely with her. Despite their constant state of disagreement however, she had accepted another life and death situation without much complaint. She had been attacked twice and during the second, had actually fought back with enough power to drive her opponent back. He could still recall how she looked standing in the doorway to the washroom earlier that morning. Her dark eyes had been tinted slightly with the same pink that hovered in a cloud around her body. She had been a predator then: mouth set in a firm line, hand pointed forward, eyes on the target. Yes, she was human, but he was finally beginning to remember that this was the same human who helped beat Naraku into the ground. Her power was nothing compared to that of many full demons', but she wasn't easy prey either.

Then, during the discussion, she had been accepting and willing to work without putting up a fight. She had worked with him.

Sesshoumaru groaned inwardly. As much as he didn't like it, he would have to at least be civil to the miko until they got the jewel. There was no way he could find it without her, though he would never admit to that, and having to prod her every second in order to get her to follow commands would only waste time they didn't have. It would be difficult, but if she could make the effort, then so would he.

At that moment, he recalled the injury to her ankle. His wounds had already healed fully, but he had no doubt that the poison still troubled her greatly. The amount of energy she had used to defeat the creature earlier had been immense and he knew that she would not have enough to take care of the wound herself until the next morning. Unfortunately, he needed her at her strongest tomorrow. He had no idea what they would be up against with this guardian or in the Otherworld.

There was a light on in the miko's office. The demon lord focused on it for a second and then got up, moving toward the closed door.

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Kagome sat at her desk, staring at her computer screen. She had come to her office in an attempt to finish up the chapter she was working on for her latest book, but hadn't been able to type a word. The only light in the room was the small overhead light by her computer, most of the illumination coming from a half moon that peered through the glass of the open window. The dim light reflected how she felt perfectly—trapped. Just when she was getting her life back together, when her career was looking up and she had established a strong foundation. She felt like a sapling that had just been uprooted, torn and broken. The past was coming back again, though she thought that it had given up the hunt once she had been shoved back into the well and returned to the present.

She hit her desk in frustration, staring at the blinking cursor on the screen. Why the hell did the past deem her worthy of such trouble? Why turn her life upside-down every time there was a problem? She didn't care if she was the reincarnation of some long dead tragic miko. She didn't care about that situation making her the guardian of one of the most powerful objects in the world. What she wanted was a normal life, to be able to write to her heart's content, maybe find a boyfriend and settle down. Perhaps teach a few classes at the local college.

Except that she could not—would not. She did not like being Kikyou's reincarnation, but she was. She was the guardian of the Jewel of Four Souls and capable of finding it before Yulei. Millions would die if she failed, and she could not live with that on her conscious. She had not dared to say no during the discussion, because the consequences would be too great. Yes, she would work with Sesshoumaru, Nightingale, and Soshiro. She would put her life on hold yet again, would use the miko powers that she could still feel swirling within her.

Kagome rubbed her eyes and pushed her keyboard underneath her desk. There was no way she was getting anything else written today. Instead, she moved her mouse to 'print' and selected what little she had managed to put down so far. She would be able to read over it in the morning. She was about to get up when an alert popped up on the screen: "paper tray empty."

_No way, I just refilled it two days ago. There's no way I went through that much paper in such a short amount of time._

She reached over and pulled out the paper tray. Sure enough, there was nothing there. Grumbling, she yanked a new pack from the drawer next to her and opened it up, laying it in the tray so that she could try again. She slammed the door shut and sighed. Great, now things were turning up missing in action. Who in their right mind would want her printer paper? Then again, maybe no one wanted it. Maybe her computer paper was in the same place as the missing socks she swore she put in the dryer, or old Miss Chiya's keys. Kagome saw the woman downstairs in the landlord's office at least once a week, her old back bent over his desk as she asked for a new set because her old one had suddenly turned up missing.

_Maybe it's leprechauns or pixies _Kagome snorted, smiling a little. _Yeah, I could set a trap for them and make them give everything back._ The idea was laughable, but it would explain where all her paper had gone. But then again, who was she to say what was laughable? She was going to a Japanese Otherworld the next morning into a land infested by demons and who knows what else. Suddenly, leprechauns and pixies didn't seem so ridiculous. Worse, they seemed normal.

She had just clicked the print button again when the door to her office swung open. Sesshoumaru stood in the doorway, staring at her from between the frame. Kagome felt a shiver run up her spine and her mouth dropped into a little 'o' of surprise as she stared at him. The situation reminded her of the night he arrived, standing before her in moonlight. Strands of thin light played haphazardly in rosin colored eyes, giving them an unearthly glow not unlike a cat's in the dark. His face was firm, but lacked the murderous hints that had been present that night. Both swords were sheathed, but he still carried himself in a manner that was alert and ready to move at any moment—Tokajin could be in his hand in less time it would take for her to draw breath. His steps were measured and even, full of purpose.

Part of her was terrified and she had trouble breathing. Her mind was telling her to run, to put up some kind of defense with her miko powers, but she couldn't move. She suddenly had a very good idea of what it was like for prey to look into the eyes of a wolf, to see its death in those eyes. She knew her own eyes had widened in an attempt to take him in and find a means of escape.

Part of her wanted to run, but another part was telling her that the tightness in her chest wasn't entirely the fault of terror.

He stopped when he stood over her, towering over he like a great oak. She thought that he might have been looking for something the way he was studying her and she had to force herself not to squirm. Kagome could not imagine what he would disturb her for, but she was not at all prepared for what came out of his mouth. "Let me see your foot miko."

Kagome swallowed. "Excuse me?"

"Your ankle. It was injured during the fight this morning. Let me look at it."

She sputtered for a moment before replying, still trying to find a grasp on words. "Why? I can take care of it myself."

The demon lord's eyes narrowed. He was getting seriously annoyed. "Yes, you can," he said evenly, "but not for a few more hours yet and when you do it will drain you. There is poison in the wound; it will not be easy to heal. It will resist all your efforts. Why suffer when I can take care of it now? You were limping earlier."

He was right of course. The burn on her leg hurt like hell, she couldn't deny that. Sesshoumaru nodded and to her surprise, knelt down and grabbed her injured ankle, setting it on his thigh. She gasped when she felt his fingers probe the purpled and swollen flesh, wincing slightly at the contact. Despite the pain, she was surprised to see that he was actually trying to be gentle as he turned her ankle in his palm, studying it closely. The thought of the Lord of the Western Lands being gentle sent her mind through another loop. She didn't even think he was capable of being gentle, yet here they were with her leg on his thigh, his fingers just barely glancing over her skin.

He stopped abruptly and shifted his gaze to her face. "Relax miko, I'm not going to hurt you and I can't work when you're this tensed. I've done this with Rin more times than you can imagine. The foolish little human injured herself more times than I ever thought possible. A thorn in the side, but nevertheless…"

Kagome couldn't have been more shocked. What he said regarding his ward had been harsh, yet if she wasn't mistaken, she thought she had heard something more in his voice—there had been warmth there. Looking back, she thought she had seen a certain shadow pass over the demon lord when he had spoken of the little girl's death. Given the circumstances, it was actually possible to pity him.

Sesshoumaru's concentration shifted back to her leg, but instead of poking at her wound again, he began running his hand along her calf, massaging muscles lightly as he made his way to her knee and back down again. The ministrations had her melting into a puddle in her chair as tension left her little by little. His hand was warm and soothing, barely placing pressure on her skin. Kagome felt her eyelids fall against her will and although she had been guarded earlier, she found herself allowing the demon to continue to do as he pleased.

After several minutes, his hand left her and she sat up a little, but he didn't move. Instead, he raised the same hand to his mouth and bit down. Kagome watched as fangs punctured the skin and she jumped when blood started rolling down his hand. "Don't tense up again miko. I didn't loosen those muscles for nothing," he said, moving his hand away. "I have a poison in my blood that is strong enough to nullify what Yulei's puppet put in you. It will hurt, but it will get rid of the poison. The pain will only last for a moment."

With those words, he returned his hand to her ankle. Kagome cried out and immediately clamped down on her lip when the blood made contact with the wound. It felt like the burn was being made all over again and she couldn't hold back the tears that slid from her eyes and down her cheeks. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could feel the demon's firm grip on her ankle, but the blood was like acid on her skin. She could feel herself sweating beneath her robe and her hands clenched the arm rests of the chair in an attempt to ease the pain.

She felt Sesshoumaru shift his grip from her foot to her knee and before she could cry out again, she felt his lips against the wound. She gasped again, but this time in surprise as she felt his cool mouth moving over her skin, lapping up the remained of the blood. He drank it like a fine wine, just barely making contact but replacing the pain with cool relief. It was like aloe on a burn and Kagome found herself slowly beginning to relax again. Hair softer than flower petals brushed against her leg, sliding against it with every slight movement he made. Every so often, she could feel the slight brush of his fangs, but the sharp objects that had torn so easily through his skin never punctured hers. He lifted her foot slightly to gain better access, bringing it to his mouth as if to taste some kind of delicacy.

Kagome felt her body returning to the puddle state he had created earlier and let her eyes close. She had intended to simply relax, but as Sesshoumaru continued, she allowed blackness and the stress of the day to take over and lead her to sleep.

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Sesshoumaru pulled back from the miko and looked at his work with satisfaction. The skin was still a little red, but that would clear up by morning. He doubted she would have a scar.

He carefully placed the miko's foot on the floor and stood up. She had fallen asleep during the procedure, and her body had sunken into the chair. Black hair fell over her shoulders and nearly hid her face as her chin rested against her chest. The dark black of her hair made her skin, paler from illness, stark white in contrast. He was tempted to allow her to sleep in the chair, but to have her wake up in pain after healing her seemed extremely counter productive.

Sighing, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the room next door, being careful as he maneuvered through the doorways to avoid hitting her foot. Although her bedroom was a mess and items were scattered all over the floor, the bed itself was clear and all the remnants of the creature had disappeared with the miko's earlier attack.

Sesshoumaru set her down gently and pulled back the covers on the other side. He slid her in and then wrapped them securely around her. The miko had not awoken once during the entire trip. He stood over her for a moment and watched her steady breathing, his look contemplative. Finally, he left the room, closing the door behind him. Even he would sleep this night. If the events of the day were anything to go by, then tomorrow would prove interesting.

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Because I feel like it:

Character Profile 1: Kagome Higurashi

Name: Kagome Higurashi

Place of Birth: Tokyo Japan, 20th Century

Age: 23

Race: Human/Miko

Occupation: Writer

Weapon of Choice: Bow and Arrow, Miko Powers

Current Status: The author of A Feudal Fairytale, Kagome has come to enjoy great prestige as a writer and historian specializing in ancient legends of the world. However, the book, which she claims is a work of fiction, actually recounts her own journeys in the feudal era. Since the well has closed, Kagome has not been the same woman. Although she appears to have gotten over her losses and recovered her life, she still has periods of depression. Now, her life is coming down on top of her as she finds the past catching up with her present to intervene once again in the form of her lost love's older brother. She reluctantly sets off once again to find the Jewel of Four Souls, an object which has controlled her life since the day she fell through the well. On the plus side, perhaps a new journey will produce a sequel for her beloved readers.


	9. Preparations

Chickahominy Creek

Of All Possible Worlds

Chapter 8: Preparations

Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with Inuyasha.

One quick (but important) note: I reposted this chapter because there were a few errors in the first draft I wanted to clear up. However, when trying to get it back up, I was having trouble getting the whole thing to upload and had to paste whatever wouldn't take into the edit mode before adding it to the story (which is why the spacing is so odd after a certain point). Other than the spacing, if anyone spots any more errors due to the repost, let me know. For example, there is a conversation that suddenly drops off somewhere. Please tell me. I think I got it all, but I'm not sure. I'll try to repost this again later to see if I can get a better copy of this up, but so far, has not been cooperating with my efforts.

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_Maybe if I ignore it, it'll go away,_ thought Soshiro as the knocking continued. His head rested on his folded arms, which barely fit amongst the mess on his desk and the keyboard. All in all, he had probably managed two hours of sleep the night before and the thought of rising just did not appeal to him. He had to give credit to whoever was doing the pounding though—he or she was very brave to attempt to wake him. And persistent.

Soshiro spent the previous night at his desk mulling, first over the events of the day in general—demons existing, supernatural slime, other worlds…demons. Once the reality of the situation had finally sunk in, he attempted a report for the higher-ups, but after discarding the draft on mutated fungus exposed to an accidental chemical spill at the water treatment center, he gave up and shut down his computer. If no one mentioned it—and who would? He sure as hell wasn't—then as far as the Tokyo Police Force was concerned it never happened. Hopefully. Maybe. It didn't matter. It wasn't like he could be fired. They had no one to replace him. Well, no one in their right mind anyway.

Needless to say, by the time he was finished, he didn't want to risk driving home and settled at his desk—two hours ago. Damn.

He winced as the pounding at his door became stronger and without preamble, he reached beside him for an empty coffee mug and promptly chucked it at the closed door. "Go away. Whatever it is can wait another hour or three." He watched the empty coffee mug with regret as it rolled along the floor from his position at his desk. "Unless you have coffee, then perhaps we can negotiate."

There was some shuffling outside and a muffled voice began speaking. "I'm sorry, sir. You have a phone call." He moved his arms away and let his forehead hit the desk. It was Reia, who wouldn't disturb him unless it was an emergency. So much for an additional hour of sleep.

"Who is it, Reia?"

"A young woman, sir. She called fifteen minutes ago saying that she spoke to you yesterday and you are expecting her call."

The young officer stumbled out of his chair and yanked open the blinds to let in more light before jerking open the door to reveal his partner. "I know who it is, and yeah, I was expecting her call." He held his hand out for the phone and Reia placed it into his outstretched palm.

He was about to return to the confines of the room when her hand reached out to restrain him. Dark eyes took in his face, which he knew was probably covered in marks from resting on his hands and greatly haggard. Unconsciously, his free hand reached for his jaw. He needed a shave too—badly.

"I'll get you some coffee," she said as she released him.

"Thank you, that would be appreciated," he said before the door closed.

When he was sure that he was alone again, he put the phone to his ear. He knew perfectly well who was on the other end and hoped that he didn't sound has exhausted as he felt when he said her name. "Nightingale."

"Good morning. You sound a little out of it." Soshiro winced. Obviously not.

"Late night, early morning. Are we good to go?"

"In a manner of speaking. The studio will be expecting us, so we'll have no trouble from that corner, but I couldn't get a hold of Yuimota himself. I got a busy signal every time I called."

Soshiro frowned. Yuimota—why did that name sound familiar? It was right there, at the very back of his mind. "Is that unusual?"

There was a bump from the other side of the line and then some music. Nightingale must have shifted. "No, not for him. He's rarely at home and he doesn't own a cell phone. He's always been difficult to reach. Come to think of it, it took me nearly a month to reach him the first time I needed to cross."

"A Tokyoite who doesn't own a cell phone? The strange just keeps piling up."

"Get serious."

Soshiro moved back to his desk and rebooted his computer. "I am serious. I honestly find it strange that the man doesn't own a cell phone. It's almost unheard of in this city."

"You don't need to know about his habits. Just trust me when I say that he'll get us where we need to be."

"Right, right." When the desktop flashed onto the screen, Soshiro collapsed into his chair and propped his feet on the desk. A single click had him linked to the Internet with the name Yuimota in a search box.

"When will you be ready?" Soshiro asked as he scanned the links the search engine had gathered.

"As soon as you can get over here. I'm already packed and ready to go."

"Packed?'

"Yes, packed," came the swift reply. "Which reminds me, wear something comfortable when you come to get me. Something you won't mind wearing for a couple of days."

Comfortable? He spared a glance at his rumpled uniform. The coat was unbuttoned and the sleeves still pushed pack slightly. There was no way he was wearing what he had on. He would have to make a quick stop to his own apartment before driving to Haven. Thankfully, he was only a block away from the station.

"Got it. Anything else Nightingale?"

"Not really, just pack light. Only what you can carry."

"Right. I'll be by Haven within the hour."

"Thank you. Until then," said Nightingale before the line went dead. Soshiro pushed the off button and set the phone on top of a pile of paperwork that he had yet to complete.

He clicked on the first link and began to skim, eyes narrowed at what he was reading. He was about ready to kick himself for not recalling the name. Dart Yuimota, the radio DJ from KMPA. Sure, there had to be more than one Yuimota on the Internet, but Nightingale had said "station," so KMPA fit the bill. A guy who disk jockeyed for a living was a guardian for a gate to another world?

_Just what the hell…more wierd. _Soshiro closed the page and pushed shutdown. Nothing made sense, absolutely nothing. Nightingale was nice, but he had no information on her whatsoever, yet everyone was getting ready to follow her into who knows what. Kagome seemed like a very logical and intelligent person, yet she was claiming that everything that she had written in a work of fiction was absolutely, one-hundred percent true. And Sesshoumaru—he had no clue what to think of Sesshoumaru.

And the worst part was he was going along with everything. Normally he would have investigated further, tried to come up with something any rational human being would accept, but people were having the energy sucked out of them and giant blobs of goo were coming out of faucets and attacking civilians, which was anything but normal. If he didn't do something, there was no telling what would happen. As much as he didn't want to believe any of it, his mind kept flashing back to what had happened at the theater. Whenever he thought the whole thing was a hoax, the image of Shizuka Himiko flashed before his eyes. A once vibrant person reduced to a hollow mass of flesh.

Never again, not on his watch.

"Is everything all right sir?" Reia's face appeared from behind the door, fingers curling around the frame.

"Fine. There are a few things I need to check out and I probably won't be back for a few days. Can you handle the office for awhile?"

"Of course, sir. Have you found something on the recent cases?"

"Yes." If one counted demons and ancient curses as leads then yeah, he had made some progress.

His partner frowned. "And I am assuming that you are not going to tell me."

"For now, yes. I'm still trying to sort through a lot of it myself, but maybe when this whole thing is over. Keep an eye on things here while I'm gone, work on some of the case files and see if you can't come up with something to give to the department." Soshiro moved to return the near empty case file he had been working on to the filing cabinet.

This would end up a huge mess, there was no doubt about that. He had no idea what he was heading into. It was like jumping into a thick fog without knowing what was on the other side. Everything had blurred outlines and vague forms, and even familiar objects were foreign in a place where light only made clues more misshapen. Of course, the only chance of making it through was turn off the lights and keep moving forward, an unsettling thought in itself.

Soshiro brushed by Reia as he closed his office door behind him. He had perfect confidence that his partner could handle everything while he was gone. She would be tough competition for anything that tried to cross her, but still…

"Be careful, Reia. The thing that's killing these people isn't human. I'm not sure what would happen if you tried to take it down in a head to head battle, but if it comes down to that, don't fight it."

"Soshiro?" There was worry in her voice this time. She wanted to know what was happening, he could hear it creeping into her tone in just behind the uneasiness.

He followed a sudden impulse and turned back to the small woman who had been his partner since he entered the force and cupped her face with his hands. Green eyes registered everything from shock to confusion, and round lips settled into an 'o' of surprise as she drew in a quick breath. Soshiro delicately traced one cheekbone, enjoying the texture of her skin beneath his fingers. It was so smooth, absolutely flawless.

"Do not go near it Reia. If something happens, by all means answer the call the station gives you, but please don't try running after this thing alone. It is more dangerous than anything you could imagine." His heart was pounding heavily in his chest. He hadn't realized it the previous night, but leaving modern day Tokyo meant leaving his whole life behind—jobs, friends, everything. He wouldn't be around to protect the things he cared about. Last night, the decision had been part of his job, but now he couldn't keep all of his doubts at bay.

But there was a greater purpose. Himiko, on the floor, broken and empty. Delicate limbs sprawled out and lifeless, face forever frozen in a look of absolute horror. The fingers curled around Reia's face shook a little. The facial features of the dead girl narrowed in his mind, became sharper and more pronounced. Skin darkened from ivory to sunny bronze tinted blue without the breath of life. Features in his head shifted to match the face in his hands.

Never had he thought of this woman as something he wanted to protect, but now that there was a possibility of losing her forever…his thumb traced the sharp line of one cheek.

No one else. No other victims. Not this woman.

The thoughts were not out of his head before his head lowered and his lips replaced his right hand. He didn't register the motion until her warmth flooded his lips. It was just the barest pressure, but he could feel her move to draw in a sharp breath. He had not planned the chaste kissed, but knew immediately that he would not take back the action given the chance.

When his lips left her cheek, he drew her forehead to his, and closed his eyes. There was a faint scent of lilacs—her shampoo?—and it only drew him in closer. Reia's mouth was moving, but no sound escaped. However, he felt her right hand grasp his wrist for support.

He pulled away to look directly in her eyes. "Don't go after it. Just stay here unless you're called. Please. You'll get hurt if you don't. Trust me when I say that what we're up against is very, very nasty. It will not spare you if you get in its way." He swallowed the lump in his throat. In fact, the thing would probably find her utterly delectable. It would enjoy draining every last vibrant sip of life. The thought alone made him queasy. His partner's face morphed from confusion to irritation, no doubt because he told her to stay behind and keep away. She tried to pull away from him and deliver sharp retribution for the implications of his comment, but before she could reach her goal, Soshiro kissed her forehead and abruptly released her, grabbing the cup of coffee in her left hand before moving down the hall at a fast clip before Reia had time to recollect herself and formulate a response.

There was no way in Hell she would stay away of course. She was too damn stubborn and with him gone, she would feel like she had to do double the work. But he couldn't help warning her. If something happened to her while he was gone, he wasn't sure he would be able to forgive himself.

He didn't look back as he moved swiftly from the building to his car. Second thoughts had no place in his mind right now. There were no other choices, but the final look on Reia's face haunted him as he opened the door to his car. The woman's fury was a stab in the gut. Part of him was screaming for leaving her without some kind of explanation, but another side warred that telling her what he was doing would only make her chase after him, which would put her in further over her head. If the world on the other side of the barrier was anything like what slithered out of Kagome's bathroom, then Reia wouldn't stand a chance—he wasn't even sure that he stood a chance of defeating something like that.

The car started with a little hesitation, but as soon as he was buckled in, he stepped firmly on the gas. He had already started, and there was no time to turn back. He would go to his apartment first, grab some clothes and ammunition for his gun, shave, and then pick up Nightingale on the way to Higurashi's. And perhaps more coffee, the cup in his hand was already half empty. Yes, lots of coffee. And some Tylenol.

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Kagome groaned when the weight of a furry paw on her shoulder dragged her from a peaceful slumber. "Kiri, not now." She took a swipe at the cat with an errant hand, but the black ball of fuzz was persistent. When his owner obviously wasn't roused by a gentle touch on the shoulder, he proceeded to pounce on her stomach, claws extended. Kagome let out a hiss as the cat landed, grappling with it until it released her grip on her shirt.

Kiri moved away as soon as she sat up, bounding to the floor and retreating to stare at her quizzically from a distance as if to ask _"Are you up now?"_ Kagome groaned and rubbed her eyes, searching for her alarm clock through the bleariness. Her hands fumbled wildly over the nightstand until she managed to hit the black box. She jammed the snooze button and the face lit up—7:00. _Shit_. "Why, in the name of Heaven, am I up so early?" The cat got up and paced toward the door before looking back and giving her another "meow."

"Oh, right. Nightingale and Soshiro said they'd be here early this afternoon." The events of the previous day slowly meandered their way back to her. The creature in her bathroom—which made her doubt the sensibility of taking a shower that morning—the battle in her bedroom, the truth about the creature from the dig, Sesshoumaru caring for her ankle…the last thought made her shudder. She could still feel his tight grip on her leg, his tongue running carefully over marred flesh to leave healed skin behind with every stroke. The way he had cared for her, it had almost been gentle. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep to his touch, which meant that he had also carried her to bed. Kagome felt her face ignite. Yesterday, the two of them had somehow managed to come to some sort of truce, but still, the thought of him carrying her to bed and tucking her in—no, she would not let her thoughts travel in that direction.

Kiri was still waiting for her by the door, black tail swishing back and forth. Slit pupils stared at her, squinting slightly.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were laughing at me," Kagome grumbled at the cat, shoving the covers aside. She would make the bed later. Right now, her stomach was complaining that she had missed dinner, and thus breakfast was the first thing on the agenda for the day.

She found a hair band lying on her dresser and quickly threaded it through her unruly locks on her way out. Kiri was still standing next to the door, pacing back and forth with impatience. "I'm coming! Just let me pull my hair back." Kagome lightly brushed Kiri away with her foot, but the animal would have none of it, he simply came back and entwined himself between her legs.

With some impatience, Kagome swept the cat off the floor and shifted him to her left hand. "Alright, see, I'm moving."

Kagome opened the door and stopped, mouth gaping.

The blinds covering the window to the balcony had been closed the previous night, but there was still enough morning light coming through to illuminate the figure resting in her living room. Sesshoumaru, Demon Lord of the West, was sprawled out listlessly on her couch.

At first glance, the image might have been hysterical. The demon, clearly too tall for the furniture to accommodate, had his bare feet dangling off the end in a position that had to be uncomfortable. He was jammed tightly between the two armrests. One of his arms was crossed over his body, but the other hand nearly brushed the floor. The surface of the fabric beneath him was rumpled, as if he had shifted positions several times during the night in an effort to get comfortable. Kagome speculated that he never had. Although he had found one of the throw pillows to cushion his head, his hair trailed around his body and onto the floor in a steady stream of pale gloss that shone like melted water off ice in the light. The blanket that had been hanging on the back of the couch was now on the floor in a heap.

Yes, it could have been amusing, except the he had also discarded his kimono and slept only in his white hakama pants. She couldn't deny that it was a nice view. The form on the couch was thin, more slender than she would have thought underneath all the armor and flowing robes. He was built like a swimmer, all long powerful muscle—strength and whipcord. The deity that molded him had to be proud of such a creation. In such light, Sesshoumaru was a pale Narcissus wrapped in white, gorgeous but completely untouchable. A Pygmalion creation of marble made flesh at magic's touch.

Although Kagome tried to tell her self over and over that he wasn't that attractive, that he was a demon, and that there was nothing worth wanting underneath the pretty shell, she couldn't get her heartbeat to slow down to a reasonable pace. The severe mask he always wore was erased by sleep. With his features relaxed, he almost appeared kind. However, a few lines around the eyes and mouth told her that he was not untroubled, and his rest was not entirely peaceful. She had to fight to keep her hand from reaching for those features, to smooth away the stress that caused such unwanted imperfections.

Heat swamped Kagome's body and she felt a shiver run down to her core. Her stomach was in knots and every fiber of her mind told her to retreat back into her room until he woke up. Instead, she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath before opening them again. She still felt unsteady, but it had helped—a little.

Kiri wiggled out of her grip, using her stomach to push himself away. Kagome struggled to keep the cat in her arms, but she could not hold on and to her horror, the cat went over to where Sesshoumaru slept and began to nudge the hand touching the floor. Kagome nearly burst out laughing despite her discomfort when that same hand pushed the feline away, causing Kiri to pace indignantly before leaping up onto the coffee table to further study his task. "Kiri, no!" Kagome hissed from her place near the door. She knew exactly where this was going, but she dared not move any closer.

As far as she knew, Sesshoumaru was a morning type of person, but the previous day must have worn out even him. Kiri was having as much trouble waking up the demon as he had her.

After his first tactic failed, the cat went to plan B. He backed up to the end of the table to give himself a running start and with a burst of power, launched himself onto Sesshoumaru's bare chest.

It only took a fraction of a second for the impact to take effect. Before Kagome could draw in another breath, Sesshoumaru had latched a clawed hand around the scruff of his opponent's neck, glaring at it with enough force to shatter even the strongest of wills. Kiri just meowed.

Kagome could hear Sesshoumaru's growl from where she stood near the doorway. His fist tightened around the fur, but the cat still let out no form of protest. "You will refrain from awakening this Sesshoumaru in such a manner. Shall it happen again, I assure you there will be consequences." He threw the cat to the ground and rose immediately. Kiri shot him one last look before trotting back into the bedroom.

Sesshoumaru sat up and turned his attention towards her. "Miko."

Kagome flinched. "Sesshoumaru-sama."

"I assume that you are feeling better." His face still looked completely impassive when he said it, but if she wasn't mistaken, there was a slight glint in his eyes that set off a golden color.

Kagome managed to nod, not trusting her voice to convey some semblance of an answer without wavering. Damn, but she wished he would put a shirt on. It was extremely distracting, though she desperately tried to focus her attention elsewhere.

"I see," he said, low baritone rising just above a whisper. He moved closer to her, near enough that if she were to stretch out her hand she would come into contact with pale skin. Although his skin suggested coolness, she could feel heat sliding off of him and reaching out to wrap around her body. Her fingers tingled. She could feel every movement of air as tiny stabs of electricity roved through her hands. Just a little closer, a hair. She knew that she wasn't steady and it took every ounce of will power not to reach behind her for the doorframe. Dimly, she wondered what would happen if she were to take a step forward and close the distance. All it would take was a couple more steps and she would be—what was she thinking? And yes, there was definitely a hint of amusement behind his eyes. Damn him—he was actually enjoying her discomfort! This was not happening. _Calm down Kagome. He's just trying to get to you._

"Perhaps you should get ready, miko. It will be a long day."

Kagome closed her eyes and blocked out the site and then tried to sum up every ill thought she had ever had of the demon. It was harder than she thought it would be. "Perhaps you should move out of my way," she replied in the best imitation of his arrogance that she could muster. Then, for good measure, she met his gaze with a glare of her own. To her credit he actually looked slightly surprised. _Score one for Kagome! _

"If you want me ready, you need to back off and stop acting like you rule the world. You may be a demon, but this is my home and you are a guest in it—act like one." She stood up straighter, spurred by a new flow of adrenaline. Another idea suddenly occurred to her. "If you don't move, I may be forced to purify you." She grinned. "I don't intend on hurting you, but it's been awhile since I've used my abilities. Who knows? I might just go a little overboard and turn you into a pile of ash." Honestly, she wasn't sure she was capable of holding up such a promise, but right now, she would be willing to try if he would just move.

Sesshoumaru wasn't visibly angry, but the light shifted in his eyes and she was quickly beginning to remember how fast he could move. Suddenly, she hoped that she could accomplish her threat. The memory of being slammed up against the balcony window was still all too recent for her comfort. Kagome took a breath and calmed herself, side-stepping the demon instead of moving closer to him. The small kitchen had never seemed so comforting. "I was just going to start breakfast when you woke up." She effectively broke away and moved rapidly toward the kitchen without looking back. "Do you need anything?" Probably a ridiculous question, he had refused everything she offered yesterday. Courtesy made her ask, however.

"Miko, for the last time, this Sesshoumaru…" Kagome glanced at him, the hand holding a box a pancake mix frozen in the air. He was glaring at her, the glint of amusement traded for analytical probing. She wanted to tell him to stop, that his stare made her uncomfortable, but she allowed him to study her. Finally, "I will have whatever you're having."

Kagome nearly dropped the box. _What did he say? Did he just agree to have breakfast with me? Human food?_

Sesshoumaru gave her one final glare before grabbing his kimono from where it hung on a nearby chair. "I shall join you in a few minutes, miko. I am in need of a bath and I shall attempt to use this…shower." He grimaced, struggling with the foreign word. The word had been pronounced slowly, but it was still off. Without saying another word, he turned and flung open the door to her bedroom, slamming it behind him.

Yeah, he was definitely irritated. Inwardly, Kagome berated herself. The last thing she needed was a pissed of demon in her apartment. As she began making the batter for pancakes and prayed that her bathroom wouldn't come to further harm.

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_How dare she! _That lowly, disgusting, worthless piece of flesh that wasn't even fit to walk this earth! Sesshoumaru let loose a low growl as he slammed the door behind him. The cat, which had been resting on the bed, jump onto the floor and dove underneath, thus effectively hiding himself from the demon lord's line of vision. Probably a wise decision in Sesshoumaru's estimation. He felt the need to rip something apart, and that cat was very conveniently placed on top of the bed.

But that human! She had insulted and threatened him! _And I'm still not as angry as I should be._

He stopped at that thought, pausing in the bathroom. He should have taken more control and put her in her place, but he had done nothing more than acquiesce to her request for a meal and leave. It didn't make sense. He had said yes to the meal because he had decided to tolerate cooperation between the two of them. In order to get to Yulei, he needed the Jewel of Four Souls, and the only way to the jewel was the woman. So he would cooperate—for now. But that still didn't explain why he stood there and let her insult him. He had even bantered with her—and enjoyed it!

There was no clear explanation for that either. He had heard her before she even opened the door, had sensed the increased tempo of her heart as she shifted from sleep to full awareness. Before she entered the room, he had been about to get up, but upon opening the door, her scent spiked and twisted. It was the same scent that clung to her pillow, the smell that had followed him to sleep the night before only more mind blowing in its intensity. And then when he approached her, saw her quiver—it had been like awe mixed with more than a little fear. He couldn't help feeding off of it, but the result hadn't been what he had expected. Initially, he had probed her for the purpose of intimidation, but again, it had turned to enjoyment.

And again, he wasn't as angry as he should have been. Even the _youkai_ in his essence had not responded to the barbs. Quite the contrary, it seemed perfectly settled, which irritated him further.

Sesshoumaru shoved the thoughts aside and folded his kimono before setting it on the sink. He had more important things to worry about than his reaction to the miko. Like how to work this thing she called a shower.

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"All aboard the Soshiro express. Please make sure all items are firmly secured as there will be no stops between here and KMPA studios." Kagome gazed at the man in amusement as he held open the door for her to climb in beside Nightingale, who already occupied the other side of the back seat. KMPA studios? She almost had to have Soshiro repeat the comment. Odd place to put a portal to another world.

"You look really different out of uniform," Kagome said to him as she climbed in. Instead of an officer's blue shirt and pants, Soshiro had donned a pair of loose fitting jeans, grey t-shirt and boots. Yes, quite a difference. There would have been no way to tell he was with the force except that there was a loaded gun strapped to his right thigh.

The man in question grinned. "Well, I was told to dress comfortably, and I don't get more comfortable than this." He turned to Sesshoumaru and pointed toward the passenger side. "You're sitting next to me. Jump in."

Sesshoumaru gazed warily at the metal contraption, but didn't hesitate in following the instructions. People were already beginning to stare in his direction as he had opted to retain his initial state of dress as opposed to switching to something more modern. Not that Kagome had anything that would have fit him anyway.

"You look well rested, Kagome," said Nightingale. She toggled her gaze between Kagome and the demon in the front seat. "I'm surprised that you two are still in one piece."

The other woman was far too cheerful. She had managed to tolerate Sesshoumaru's presence thus far, but it was a very tremulous tolerance. The image of him this morning still wouldn't leave her head and that annoyed her. It didn't help that his hair had clogged up the drain in the shower—and she thought her hair had been hard to get up. At least hers contrasted with the porcelain and was easy to find. She had to hunt the strands from his head. It had taken her twenty minutes to fish all of the strands out of the drain. He hadn't even bothered to help her! To give credit where it's due though, he did eat the pancakes. And took seconds.

"Is your shamisen with you? I don't see it here," said Kagome to change the subject.

"No, it's not. I love the instrument, but it's a little bulky to be carrying around for long periods of time. If we have to fight, it could break." Kagome must have had a quizzical look on her face because Nightingale laughed and waved her off. "The shamisen isn't the only instrument I can play. In fact, it isn't even my strongest instrument. I play best on this." The female demon reached for something that was beneath her jeans around her calf.

When she opened her hand, a flute about the size of Kagome's forearm was in her palm. It had a slightly odd sheen to it, almost like pearl but not as pale. It was closer to ivory in color. There were no valves and no pieces, it was a single reed with holes carefully carved into the structure. Nightingale offered it to her and Kagome took it carefully between her fingers, jumping when the cool rough surface hit her palms. "What…"

"It's bone." Kagome's head snapped up. Sesshoumaru was peering back at them from the front seat, staring at the instrument in Kagome's hands.

"He's right. It's made out of bird bone. Naturally light and hollow—resonant. This particular one was a gift from my father." Nightingale frowned slightly. "Not what he had wanted to give me, but it was appropriate."

Sesshoumaru shrugged, but didn't comment. What had she meant by appropriate? She handed the flute back to its owner.

"My father would have preferred to put a sword in my hands, like he had with my other siblings, but I just wasn't naturally gifted toward that area," Nightingale said. "I wouldn't trade my flute and musical abilities for anything, though. It is my gift."

Kagome shifted. Nightingale shrugged the matter off like it was nothing. It was obvious that she held some resentment about being the odd one out in her family, but she was completely serious when she said she wouldn't trade for anything. Kagome couldn't help wondering what she would have been like back in the feudal era with such confidence. To have such a clear-cut view of who she was—to know that she was completely separate from Kikyo. It would have saved her many headaches. An admirable trait in anyone.

Pain laced through her shin suddenly. A black blur streaked past her face and through tears, she met slit green eyes. "Kiri?" Kagome reached out for the black cat on her lap. The animal purred and snuggled closer into her lap. "What are you doing here?"

"He must have jumped in when I opened the door," Soshiro said.

"Well, I can't exactly take a cat through this portal, can I?"

"It's up to you," said Nightingale. "We don't have time to turn back, and I think he would be okay on his own. Cats are survivors by nature. And didn't he hunt for himself last night?"

Kagome nodded.

"See, then it shouldn't be a problem. Just leave him by the station. I wouldn't be surprised if he found his way home while we're gone. I'll bet he'll be sitting in your apartment by the time you get back."

"Yeah, you're probably right." She resettled the cat in her lap, running her fingers through its thick fur, taking comfort from the simple motion. It would be hard enough to deal with the oncoming task without the care of a cat added to the problem.

The city of Tokyo whirled by outside the car window, like wet paint smudged across an impressionist's canvas. It was one blurry picture of distorted reality. She could stand back and look at it forever, but never quite understand, never know the intention behind the masterpiece. Tokyo was a work of art, but the smudges made her doubt reality. The past several years, from her return to college life and after, seemed like some kind of strange vision. She should have been more scared than this, should have been more upset that the world she had so carefully constructed for herself was falling apart around her. Yet, part of her was still in the Feudal Era. There were times when modern life was foreign. She was asleep and everything since the well's sealing was a dream.

The tone in the car was friendly. Nightingale and Soshiro continued to talk with Kagome interjecting ever so often. Sesshoumaru predictably remained silent. However, when Soshiro pulled up beside the KMPA building, all conversation came to a halt.

Kagome reached for the door handle and pushed it open, Kiri making a noise of protest as she stood up. She stared up at the top of the building and bit her lower lip. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing up, and her miko power was giving off a warning in her head. There was something dark up there. The others must have sensed it too, because all eyes were trained on the top floor.

"It's the same energy," Soshiro remarked quietly.

"We're not going to gain anything by standing here," Kagome said, and began walking toward the front door. She felt Nightingale shift beside her before moving in front, taking the lead. Soshiro also moved in front of her, gun held out. Sesshoumaru remained at her back. The sound of a sword sliding out of its sheath was audible when they walked through the front doors. Kagome suddenly wished that she still had her bow and arrow. At least having a weapon in her hands would have brought some measure of comfort.

Nightingale led them to the stairs. No sooner had the door opened than a shape came barreling down the stairs. Nightingale tensed, the safety went off on Soshiro's gun.

"Wait!" Kagome yelled. The figure was familiar—willowy thin, slightly taller than Kagome. "Midori, what are you doing here?" She came around Soshiro and took the girl by the arm.

"Kagome?" Glassy eyes met hers, gasping. "Hojo, he's…I couldn't…he's."

"Slow down, calm. Tell us what happened."

Midori took a few deep breaths, but when she found her voice, it was still choked. "Hojo was in an interview. Then ice, so cold."

"Where is he Midori?"

"Upstairs, help him. Please."

The others didn't wait. Soshiro charged up the stairs with Nightingale at his heels. Kagome had no time to reassure the other girl as Sesshoumaru also forced her to move. It was getting colder as they rose. By the fifth floor Kagome could see her breath drawn out in thin wisps. The top door was frozen shut. Soshiro cursed.

"Move!" Sesshoumaru moved passed them and shoved his body against the door. Demon strength sent the door flying. They filed in.

The sight inside was not what Kagome expected. Amidst a floor of frozen ice stood two men. The first stared directly ahead, his right arm transformed into a sword of ice. His hair was white, every strand covered in frost. Parted lips were a light shade of blue—he was gone. Another victim.

The other man was what shocked her. Almost as tall as Sesshoumaru, he stood with a wooden bo staff in the middle of the floor, pale grey eyes fixed on his opponent. Wild blonde hair hung down his back and flowed over his shoulders. His face was pale. He was shivering. His feet were encased in ice.

"Stay back." His voice was heavily accented, but very recognizable. Kagome had heard it almost everyday.

"Dart!" Nightingale moved her flute to her lips.

"Don't! I tried a sound attack on it already. He just reflects them back. It doesn't have any effect. Just get out!"

The other figure in the room didn't wait for a response. He turned and opened his mouth. Kagome screamed as bone shattering cold ripped through her. It should have brought her to her knees, but she couldn't move that far. Ice crept up her legs.

Her companions fared no better. Soshiro was cursing and bullets ricocheted off the other figure, but his left leg was firmly frozen to the floor. Every bullet hit a solid wall of ice that was brought up by their opponent. A natural shield. Nightingale had been caught against the wall, molding to it beside Hojo, whom Kagome caught site of for the first time. Only Sesshoumaru remained free, breaking through the ice as it rose from the ground. He managed to avoid becoming trapped but could not get past the barriers of ice that guarded their enemy. It absorbed every blow.

Sesshoumaru increased his speed, slashing at the barrier with a flurry of strokes, but nothing made it passed. He changed tactics and tried a slash of poison, but whatever it melted was only replaced by another layer.

Finally, he settled beside Dart, raising his sword into a defensive position beside the other man.

"Are you finished?" The figure had a voice a scold as his weapon, though somewhat sluggish. Sesshoumaru growled and Kagome could see a hint of red bleeding through his eyes.

Sesshoumaru didn't get a chance to move. He was interrupted.

"No." It came from the center of the room. Kagome scanned the room, but could not find the source of the reply. Finally, she looked down and gasped.

Moving toward the iceman with slow even steps was a black shape—Kiri. But not. As Kagome watched, her house cat shifted, limbs extending, bones twisting. His back arched, legs extended. Paws became hands and black fur morphed to a long fluttering coat and dark pants. At completion, a boy with sort black hair, fair skin, and slit green eyes stood in the cat's place. He moved his hand to brush through his hair, grazing the single earring in his right ear as he did so.

The monster grinned. "A boy? You are supposed to defeat me."

"In a moment, yes."

"You don't even have a weapon."

A smile graced the boy's face. He looked like—a cat with a mouse in its paws. A predator, fangs included. He reached inside his coat. To Kagome's astonishment, he pulled out a small piece of paper. "Quite on the contrary, I carry an arsenal."

"You're going to defeat me with a piece of paper?"

"Something like that." And then his hands moved.

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AN: I told you the cat was important. He is also the last major character by the way (well, not major. More like a minor character with one major role). You'll be seeing him quite a bit. I think I'll also enjoy molding a character who uses paper as a weapon.

Again, I would like to thank Hellspixie18 for reading through this for me. It makes my life so much easier.

I hope everyone enjoys the update and do not forget to review. I love reviews, even if they're only one sentence long.

Character Profile 2: Sesshoumaru

Name: Sesshoumaru

Place of Birth: Western Lands, Feudal Era Japan

Age: Lost count a long time ago

Race: Demon Lord

Occupation: Former (Current?) Lord of the Western Lands

Weapon of Choice: Swords

Current Status: Sesshoumaru, a demon lord in his own time, has been transported to modern day Tokyo. Since finding out that his kingdom still exists and that an ancient foe, Yulei, is out to destroy his country, he has grudgingly agreed to aid the miko Kagome and her allies. He has first hand knowledge of Yulei's power and is determined to find the Jewel of Four Souls to defeat her once and for all. If he has to put up with Kagome along the way, so be it.


End file.
